A Brutal Reality
by BIG Z1776
Summary: SEQUEL TO "A BRUTAL TRUTH". The Colonials have just started taking their first steps into a much larger galaxy where danger, friends, and the unknown lie around every corner. And Earth has now taken the next huge step into the galaxy and its rise to superpower is all but inevitable. So what's to stop them? Old enemies from the past thought to be gone and new ones not yet seen.
1. Chapter 1

**Before we start I've got something that should help visualize some of the OC's and previously unseen characters. As I get new more major characters I'll have, in bold and in parentheses, the names of actors I envision these characters to be. This is something I've read about as a tool for authors in writing about OC's in terms of their appearances and I decided why not? Let's give it a try, and you know what why don't I issue a bit of a challenge for people to do this themselves, just to see how it works.**

**Lieutenant Kelsey Adama: Rose Byrne**

**Colonel Henry Black: Jason Statham **

**Corporal Heather Dean: Eileen April Boylan**

**Admiral Nagala: Danny Huston**

**Admiral Queen: Robert Patrick**

**President Richard Adar: Rick Hoffman**

**Chapter 1**

Location: Caprica City Outskirts, Caprica

Date: February 6, 2020

Time: 1845 Hours

It was good to be home, that was for sure, the Adama's as a family were all in agreement there. It had been six years, six long years since the _Galactica_ had accomplished her final mission. Kobol had been found, the Colonials had arrived in force upon the home of their ancestors and had established themselves upon the great homeworld of Humanity thanks to the massive expedition fleet that _Galactica_ had led to Kobol. But there was something missing from the official report. The_ Galactica_ and the Kobol Expedition Fleet had come in third place in the race to arrive on Kobol. They had been beaten by the Colonials' Ring Security and Exploration Command who themselves came in second place to Earth's Stargate Command.

This information was still classified, as was the events on the planet Frencalis where Lieutenant Kara Thrace had found herself caught up in a war amongst the indigenous human population and shot down. A tense situation with an Earth battlecruiser had been avoided after a mission led by the Marinestar _Ravager_ had rescued her and then a still classified recovery mission had awarded the Colonials a very special crystal whose properties were still, as of yet, unknown to the Adama family. But through all of this, the Colonials had not had a handful of anonymous accidents that were, upon investigation, just accidents.

However, for one beloved Battlestar, her return was marked with slight sadness. The _Galactica_ had been slated to return to her previous fate as a museum ship upon her return from Kobol. And with that old Battlestar's retirement came the retirement of Admiral William Adama. He'd been slated for retirement before one event changed everything. His only daughter and his youngest child, Kelsey, had found herself caught in a devastating accident that caused her Raptor to randomly jump and lucky for her, jumped right on top of an Earth controlled planet. From there, things happened quickly, starting with Earth arriving in the Colonies to return Kelsey. Admiral Adama had seen his daughter return to him alive, only to have her kidnapped hours later by the Cylons and he got to see Earth's very forceful rescue mission that had made him and the Colonies as a whole realize things weren't the way they'd thought in regards to Earth.

But all of this had led to the culmination of his career, the mission to find Kobol and do so with his son Lee and his daughter Kelsey. He'd also been made Admiral for the mission, which was pretty nice to have under his belt in terms of retirement benefits. But his retirement thus far was a bit of a half retirement. Like any serving member of the Fleet he had to serve a term in the reserves, but they already had a commanding officer and all he had to do was come in every so often to the local Fleet Planetary Command Center, observe some training amongst the reservists, and then go home. It kept him in touch with some old comrades along with the latest developments in the fleet, including one recent development that had pleased him just fine.

There was a new class of Battlestars nearing completion. It was set to replace the _Columbia_ class as a medium sized Battlestar, cheaper to produce than the upgraded _Pegasus _class, faster than the _Pegasus_ class, smaller crew compliment, and still extremely powerful with a large Viper compliment. There were only a handful of _Columbia_'s left in service, and those few were just awaiting scrapping after the ones in the best conditions were picked out for mophball yards and training ships. The crews of these ships were merely in those ships fresh from training getting basic experience before moving onto the rest of the fleet. But the loss of all these ships meant there was a gap in the midsized Battlestar role, and these new ships, whose class name was not yet known, was set to become the backbone of the Colonial Fleet. Or so the rumors stated, the first batch of eight ships was a few weeks from being launched and going into trials. But the military, politics, and the hubbub about the latest colonization efforts of over a dozen different planets that had been just outside Colonial Space in what had been Cylon space was not on the minds of the Adama family, it was Earth. To put it lightly, Earth had simply disappeared.

"Admiral sir!" the chippy voice of Kara Thrace sounded off as she stood in front of the opened door and in front of her former commanding officer, dressed in a simple button up shirt and black slacks.

"Hey Kara," the eldest Adama said, gesturing her inside his new flat.

"So you finally got the new cabin, nice," Kara grinned as she walked into the new apartment that he'd just bought with his pension.

"It's got all the comforts of home," Adama said with a bit of smugness as the two made it to the common area.

"Took ya long enough," Lee Adama called out from the kitchen.

"Whatcha cooking Apollo?" she asked.

"I am cooking," Kelsey Adama laughed from the kitchen, emphasizing the 'I', "some side dishes for the barbecue. Did you bring what you were told to get?"

"Ambrosia for everyone baby," Kara laughed, holding up the bags with a couple of six packs in each one.

"So the Lieutenant finally did something right for once," Lee chuckled.

"What was that Captain?" Kara questioned.

"You've already pissed off your CAG aboard the Titan. You were on that Battlestar for what, two weeks?" Lee asked, "Isn't that some kind of record for you?"

"Well I've only been four ships since the Galactica was decommissioned so no."

"Four of those years were at the Academy, if you hadn't been there half the fleet would know your name," Lee launched on back.

"So you did miss me?"

"Guest room's second door on the right," Kelsey sounded off, getting a pair of dagger glances from her brother and her old friend.

"Steaks are almost ready," Adama called out walking in from the balcony where he had a grill going with a set of steaks on with a fantastic view of Caprica City.

"You hear the news Kara?" Kelsey asked.

"What news? I've got a ton to choose from Lightbulb."

"Someone blew the whistle on what happened at the meeting station. Apparently it wasn't a misunderstanding that made Earth jump the gun on beating feet out of our space."

"Really? What happened?" Kara asked, grabbing a bottle and sitting down.

"Our diplomat got pissed off at the Earth delegation and both sides drew their guns when he made a threatening gesture and an Earth guard fired a shot when their diplomat shoved his gun away and all hell broke loose."

"Let me guess, that's why there's an angry mob at the doorsteps to the Quorum?" Kara asked with a satisfied grin.

"For what good it did, Earth's gone," Lee said, leaning on the counter, "We all saw what Earth was capable of. If they don't want to be found we're gonna have to look far and wide."

"You think they'll be back once they think things have settled down? Kelsey?" Kara asked.

"I don't know, maybe," she shrugged, "They weren't hostile with me. But that could have just been empathy for me being lost and alone in their care. The Earthers I met seemed to be good people at least."

"Well obviously they were hostile enough to whoop some Cylon ass when we rescued you and then they fought us on that satellite without blinking an eye," the elder Adama said calmly as he too sat down.

"Well their ships didn't open fire on our ships at all, remember that planet during the expedition?" Lee said to Kara, "And oh you forgot to mention one thing to her Kelsey."

"Mention what?" Kara asked, taking a swig on her own ambrosia.

"The Earth ship at the satellite wasn't one of their small uh…battlecruisers I think they called them. It was Battlestar sized."

"Really?" Kara perked up her eyebrows.

"That ship would have ripped apart the entire fleet by itself. But they didn't, Earth didn't want to burn any bridges, just cover their tracks," Adama stated plainly, "I think one day they'll be back. We'll just have to settle our own problems first."

"Like not pissing off your superiors," Kelsey jabbed at Kara, who glared with a mischievous grin right at her.

"Better not leave your plate Lightbulb, shame if something fell into it."

"Remember who's cooking Starbuck," Kelsey warned waving the spoon she was stirring with.

"Don't egg her on Kara she's vindictive," Lee said, "And whatever you two end up starting will somehow affect me."

"Hey dad I think those steaks are ready," Kelsey called out.

"Kara, why don't you get them off the grill for me," Adama said calmly.

"Yes sir Admiral sir," Kara said with exaggerated precision as she stood up and walked out to the porch and started to get the half dozen steaks off and onto a plate.

"What were you saying earlier Lee?" Kelsey asked as she began to finish up the last of the sides.

"Yeah I just got my new assignment aboard the _Choros_," Lee said, "We'll be shipping out in a few weeks to the Kobol Corridor to escort a few construction platforms that are needed for building the new command satellite at Kobol."

"CAG?"

"Yeah, not much of a challenge, she's a Valkyrie, but I'll finally get into one of those new Mark VIII's. She just slipped out of the new shipyards over Sagitarron so we'll have all the new teething problems that new ships always have."

"Heard their CO asked for you specifically," Adama asked.

"That's what I heard as well," Lee replied, "Guess he wanted someone who's been beyond the red line."

"Steaks are ready," Kara called out as she sat down with everyone after putting the steaks on the table.

"Alright, now that everyone's here let's eat."

At that moment, the door sounded out as someone knocked on the other side. Everyone was a bit surprised because they weren't expecting any other company. So the fact that someone had driven out to William Adama's cabin outside of Caprica City was unexpected. After looking at his kids and Kara Adama got up and went to the front door. He peered through the eye hole and saw a black uniformed man about his own age with two other men in similar uniforms standing behind him.

"Colonial Intelligence," Adama said, looking over at his guests who furrowed their brows in curiosity.

"What're they doing here?" Kelsey asked, her voice etched with worry, knowing exactly what had happened the last time that she'd had anything to do with them.

"Let's find out."

Adama opened the door and the man in front of him did not look surprised at all to see him.

"Admiral Adama?" the man asked.

"Was," he replied.

"As a reservist you're still an Admiral in the Colonial Fleet, and are subject to activation whenever you're needed," the man said calmly.

"Am I being called up?"

"No, at least…not yet," the officer replied calmly, "Admiral Galen Queen, Colonial Intelligence."

"I recognize the uniform."

"You may also recognize what I'm in command of. Ring Security and Exploration Command ," Queen replied, getting an odd look from everyone present, "So needless to say, I was never here, and we never had this conversation."

"Understood," Adama replied, "What is the RSEC doing at my cabin?"

"Perhaps we should talk inside," Queen replied, getting a nod from Adama who gestured him inside, "My men will make sure we're not disturbed," Admiral Queen added as the two of them entered the house, "You're familiar with our operation on Kobol correct?"

"Somewhat, your commanding officer on the ground didn't exactly brief me on the details."

"Colonel Black had been having a tough few days," Queen responded as he sat down at the table, "And the events that occurred right before the fleet's arrival are still classified."

"What happened?" Kelsey asked, "Sorry, just curious."

"That's alright Lieutenant, the allure of classified information. Just makes you wanna know more," Queen chuckled, "But, seeing as you've all kept your end of the deal with keeping quiet about your abduction Lieutenant, I'll let you in on it. You would've found out eventually and you'll need to know if you're to be of service."

"Service?" Lee asked, "Sir if you don't mind me asking, what are you driving at?"

"An incident occurred on Kobol, with a detachment of Earth troops," Queen said carefully, "Over a dozen of our people were killed or wounded."

"Is that what triggered the meeting satellite fight?"

"Indirectly," Queen said, "But that was six years ago and a two years long series of investigations and a four year ban on ring operations outside of Kobol has finally cleared the RSEC to active operations two months ago. I'm here because you four have had contact with Earth's people on their own turf to some extent. Our impression is that they seemed to trust you."

"You want us to help reestablish contact with Earth because they trusted us and you think that they'll at least give us a chance to explain ourselves," Adama asked, getting a grin from the Intelligence admiral.

"You're still sharp as ever Admiral," Queen said.

"Have you gotten Earth's location?"

"No, we're still working on it," Queen admitted, "But we're getting close."

"What exactly would you expect us to do?" Kara asked, "When or if you find Earth?"

"The plan we had in mind was for you, Admiral Adama, to take command of a Battlestar, and move to Earth's location in company with as few support ships as possible so we don't appear hostile. They know you, they seemed to trust you. We're hoping that they'll at least receive you and hear us out. From there, it's up to a handpicked team of negotiators to reestablish diplomatic relations."

"That seems like a bit of a long shot sir, why can't you use the Ring?" Lee asked.

"We wouldn't be speaking if we had succeeded," Admiral Queen replied, "Earth's address is unknown. There are hundreds of millions of possibilities we can try, but we haven't had time to thoroughly explore because of the investigation into the RSEC. But even if we did contact Earth through the ring it's not as good as having a Battlestar on their doorstep they can't just ignore. They'd have to at least talk with you."

"What do you expect us to do in the meantime?" Adama asked, "These three are due to ship out for patrol aboard their assigned ships within the month."

"You'll be surprised what kind of pull Colonial Intelligence has Admiral, you three should make yourselves at home for a little while."

"Well sir if you're going to have us do this mission make it fast please," Starbuck grumbled.

"Galaxy's a big place Lieutenant," Queen responded as he got up, apparently satisfied he'd made his point, "You three pilots will be getting your new orders for assignment to Caprica City's local defense squadrons."

"Well, at least we don't have far to go for work."

Kobol, City Ship Olympus

It was still hard to believe they were on Kobol. Even after six years the sheer importance of their mission hadn't really dawned on many of the RSEC's personnel. But most of the people in Choros weren't ever going to step foot on that planet, at least through the ring they weren't. Most of them were security and technical personnel who were there to be sure everything inside the massive hollowed out moon base was proper working order and was secure in doing so. There was a minority of scientific personnel that were all focused on technological upgrades and making sense of the jigsaw puzzle that was Olympus.

The scientific portion of the RSEC had expanded exponentially since operations had been cleared to restart once the investigations into the secretive branch had run their course without much in the way of blame being officially bestowed upon the members and command staff from top to bottom. But privately and off the record the command staff had gotten a real tongue lashing. But it wasn't like they could do anything to change what had happened in the past. Although there were bets that they'd find a time machine in the city's endless labs, rooms, and halls within the enormous beautiful towers.

But as of now Earth wasn't on people's minds, it was Kobol and all they had found and were yet to find. The ancient ruins of several cities had already been found, but the oddity was this, they weren't anywhere close to the level of advancement or in as such great condition relatively speaking as Olympus. This boggled the minds of the archaeologists in the RSEC, who had to be careful when around the Kobol Expedition's own scientists who had been barred from Olympus until such time as the city was completely mapped, secured, and not deemed a security risk.

That was another thing that the RSEC had to contend with. The Kobol Expedition had long since established itself and its military escort had rotated several times, establishing a permanent base of operations on the planet with a working landing zone, spaceport, supply center, and archaeological headquarters on the ground. All of the donated ships had been returned to their proper owners once their people and equipment were on the ground and work had begun. Hundreds of buildings were already erected in several basecamps combing through the ruins, country sides, and forests on several continents. Each one had a marine fire base nearby for protection and three divisions of Colonial Army troops was set to ship out for Kobol in just a few days along with a few brigades of engineers to establish a working infrastructure for a fully operational space port to bolster the already present one which was having trouble dealing with all the supplies, equipment, people, and ships arriving each week from the Colonies.

Only qualified archaeologists, scientists, and religious scholars were allowed to set foot on Kobol's soil, but a few areas were beginning to become available for the public. And the people of Kobol desperately wanted to go there, and business was booming around there. The first part was to get a secure corridor to Kobol established, and this meant that the Fleet was now committed to this venture with a fifth of the fleet on patrol in that area at any one time, widening the corridor and escorting fleets of civilians back and forth between Kobol. But this wasn't on the RSEC's priority list, Kobol's still growing list of questions was.

So that was the reason for Dr. Baltar to be there. Although he'd been working at trying to understand the power systems for Olympus he hadn't been able to make much progress thanks to the overwhelming sense of caution pervading the scientific process. The Kobol Expedition had arrived with two odd crystals that seemed to be made for the purpose of powering Olympus. However, as any scientist would have done, they'd attempted to get a few experiments by jerry-rigging it into the largest ship's power systems and nearly blown themselves to bits after they'd realized just how powerful the power crystals, as they were now known, really were.

This left everyone associated with the program extremely paranoid about doing something like that to Olympus, which meant experiments with the city were left to the bare bones of exploring, picture taking, chemical make-up of the city, and structural analysis which had taken quite a long time. But they were running out of things to do, and their patience as a whole was running thin.

"Doctor, we've got the generators patched in," Baltar's personal assistant chirped up from her desk at the entrance to his own makeshift lab in the same building as what the Colonials believed was the power control center.

"Are they certain they did it right this time?" Baltar asked without much excitement and continued studying the latest reports on the structural analysis, remembering how many times they'd failed at this attempt at getting some form of power to Olympus.

"The engineers have used your corrections and are quite certain that they've got it right."

"Very well, let us try this once more," Baltar groaned, grabbing his mug of coffee and led the way out of the lab and into the hall where a wide variety of individuals were moving about, going through their own tasks and responsibilities. He was followed closely by his PA, and walked right to the buzzing power control center.

The halls were strung with power cords, work lights, fans, and people working on them and installing and moving around new ones. The Colonials had to bring in their own light, their own air conditioning and heating, their own kitchen, refrigeration, and everything else that they needed due to the lack of power in the city proper. And that included the main power room.

The room wasn't that big, which meant only four scientists of Baltar's own choosing were able to comfortably fit. They also had eight powerful computer towers that had been manhandled into the room and plugged into the strange consoles in the room. Or at least they thought they had, as the Colonials hadn't succeeded in getting power into the city. So here they were, with three massive power conduits strung all the way from a flat area on the city foundation where three massive generators shipped in from the Colonies had been set up and covered by their own building with all the support and personnel that they needed. The conduits themselves were high end, not even in commercial circulation, mostly used at high cost research institutes and each of them was plugged into the holes that could have only been meant for the power crystals.

"Doctor Baltar, we're ready to try for power again," one of the older men called out, seeing Baltar walk in.

"I take it we're already set up for tests?" Baltar asked, taking a seat at his own control station.

"Of course," the man replied.

"Excellent, let's give it another try shall we?"

A few nods and some deep breaths of anticipation replied to that order as the senior most scientist in the room tapped in the command keys for the power conduits to start sending their glut of power into the power station. A slight whirring could be just barely heard as the power was routed to its destination and the Colonials held their breath. They had been trying this for such a long time that they didn't think it was going to work, but logic told them that they'd get there sooner or later. So why not sooner?

"Doctor, I think we're getting something!" one of the more junior members of the team called out excitedly as the power flooding to the city seemed to finally done something.

"Record everything, Doctor Wade be ready to move around the connections to the terminals so we can access the city's systems," Baltar ordered, sitting forward and began to hover over his own keyboard, awaiting any sign of life.

At that moment the lights above them started flickering, as power seeped into the city-wide systems. The hanging screens of the consoles each of them sat at were starting to show some form of life, as their color changed from opaque to a light green.

"Finally, we've got something," Baltar sighed in relief, and tapped at his computer, hoping that maybe they'd gotten their connections right.

"I'm not getting any signal from the computer systems. But we expected that," Doctor Wade said quietly, getting up and plucking Doctor Baltar's computer cable off and started putting it onto the now glowing white crystals in front of him, "Tell me when you start getting a signal Doctor."

"Nothing yet…" Baltar replied, now fully in the zone, running scan after scan, waiting for the connection to be made and the secrets of these computers to be before him.

"Okay…next one…"

Baltar tapped in another scan order and after a few seconds of waiting he got a connection.

"That's it! Hold it there Wade! We have got a connection, at long last."

Baltar checked to be sure his computer was securely connected to the hard drive towers behind him and decided to look at the power levels that they were actually getting. He typed in a broad keyword search using the word power and came up with a whole lot of nothing. Just a set of symbols that appeared in a separate window that was from the connection with the city's console. He'd never really seen these before, but thanks to a year and a half of preparation he had a full recording and scanning program going on to make sure that they didn't miss a thing. Even if none of it was decipherable.

By now Dr. Wade had gotten the other scientists' computers hooked up properly and all them seemed to be getting a whole of nothing, just like Baltar.

"Doctor, looks like we'll need to download everything we can to try and decipher or translate this data."

"I agree, start downloading, we'll have to build a translating program from scratch to communicate with these systems," Baltar ordered, "And send what we get to a team of linguists. See if there are any parallels or similarities to any ancient languages we've discovered in the Colonies."

"Just when we think we're making progress."

"At least we don't have to worry about the power anymore."

Ring Security and Exploration Command, Moon of Choros

Colonel Black was glad to finally be standing here again, awaiting the opportunity to take another historic step through the Ring of the Lords. This time he wasn't off to Kobol, but a new planet altogether. For the first time the Colonies were taking their first steps into a larger galaxy, and he for one was excited for the opportunity to do so. As was his team, and a rather impressive team it was.

Twenty-seven people, both military and civilian made up the handpicked group that was called Recon One. There were seventeen military and ten civilians in this team, quite an enlarged force from the team that Colonel Black had led through the gate to Kobol. But it also had quite a bit more baggage to haul around. The group was handpicked by their respective military and civilian leaders, Colonel Black and Brian Fraser. **(Karl Urban)**

Fraser was a mainly political appointment meant to appease the civilian leadership as a concession to get the RSEC back into exploring through the ring. But at least the RSEC itself had the final say on who got to go through with the exception of the team leaders. Fraser was a former agent in the civilian Colonial Intelligence Service, and as a member of Colonial Fleet Intelligence's principal sister agency and rival he held a deep mistrust of the military, and vice versa. So needless to say he and most of the military members didn't seem to get along. Yet there was an added oddity, he had moved on from the CIS to politics, and was supposedly good at it. And this was why he was here, as a diplomat on the ground and yet a competent leader and could fight if need be, although that was the only reason Colonel Black had allowed him on his team. He was a decent sized guy, but was somewhat impetuous, and like any CIS field agent, seemed to be inherently suspicious.

But thankfully Colonel Black had been able to keep the majority of his last team, including Corporal Heather Dean, who'd personally appealed to Colonel Black to stay on the team. He'd kept his two squad CO's, Captain Thomas Stinson**(Chris Evans)** and Captain Samuel Fredericks**(Rob Lowe)**. Their XO's were still the same, Lieutenants Robin Bragg and Nicole Arroyo, the two highest ranked women on the team. There were then the four fire team sergeants, older and very much more experienced than some of the officers in the RSEC. And then to flesh out the team eight corporals who were experienced in counter-terror and counter-piracy operations in some form or another. They were all armed very similarly to what they had been armed with when they'd taken their first steps, but there were some upgrades. The most used of these upgrades were the underslung twenty millimeter rocket launchers on their rifles which held a four round magazine of the long ranged high-explosive rounds. There were also new missile launchers that were originally meant for filling in anti-aircraft and anti-armor roles that were able to be reloaded with a detachable rear portion. One in four NCO's had one on their back, with three reloads and several crates of additional reloads strapped onto their big wheeled drones along with ammunition, supplies, water, scientific equipment, and some rather large rigid tents for shelter. And the uniforms they were wearing were just as new. They had on a semi-rigid armor plate system on their chests, backs, arms, and legs along with a newly developed communications and data sharing system that was set to be the deployed for both the Marines and Army within a month or so. This screen was able to be brought down over their choice of either right or left eyes and the comm equipment was placed within their ear pieces that were attached to the helmets on the back and linked to their speakers which covered their ears and had a speaker linked from there.

Then there were the civilians, many of whom had just passed the physical requirements for going through the ring, but only just. But where they definitely lacked in physical prowess in comparison to their military counter-parts they more than made up for in their mental and scientific capabilities. In each RSEC Recon Team there ten civilians, the leader and chief negotiator, a historical and religious expert who also acted as a linguist(but was really more of a bone thrown to the Quorum by the military), a medical expert and assistant, a technological expert and assistant, a botanical expert and assistant, and a geology expert and assistant. Each held a doctorate, but the assistants were chosen by their superiors for efficiency purposes. Brian Fraser had already been chosen, and he himself had in turn picked what, even Colonel Black had to admit, was an impressive team.

Their religious expert was as kind and understanding a man as Colonel Black had ever met. His name was Victor Beverly**(Michael Caine)** and his depths of lingual knowledge were yet to be fully explored. He always seemed to in the midst of a lesson on interesting facts to whoever would listen. He was reasonably religious of course, and knew the Sacred Scrolls backwards and forwards. But unlike most other holy men and women that Colonel Black had met he wasn't judgmental.

Some of the others such as their tech expert such as Dr. Dylan Cruz**(Elyes Gabel)** were less pleasant to be around. He was quite young for someone as brilliant as he was, and he gave Dr. Baltar a run for his money in every appreciable sense and that included his rather arrogant personality and lack of respect for authority. And other civilians such as Dr. Franklin Gorman**(Thomas Ian Nicholas)**, the team botanical expert, and Dr. Denise Hepler**(Sarah Gilbert)**, the team geology expert, were not exactly prime physical specimens. Their assistants were all young and able in their right, and most team assistants had been chosen for their previous work with their superiors by their superiors. All of this meant that they hadn't been chosen by Colonel Black, and he didn't like not knowing who he was working with.

"Fraser," Black called over once he'd made sure he'd gotten his team set up for departure.

"Yeah," the almost insubordinate civilian replied as he walked over, helmet under his arm.

"First," Black said, his voice low, "Remember who's in charge, me."

"Yeah and look what happened when you guys were in charge on Kobol. Oh yeah, we about went to war," Fraser said quite smugly, "And that's why I'm here, to make sure you guys don't make that make _that_ mistake again."

"If you CIS pukes knew anything about a_ real_ op you would know what really happened on that mission," Black responded with no small degree of anger, "How about you stick to what you do best and talk. We'll keep your precious blue bloods over there from becoming a long night of paperwork."

"I'll give you that, they aren't exactly field agents or commandoes," Fraser shrugged, "Whenever the team's in danger you're in charge, I can take orders when the time is right but when we're doing our job _let_ us do our job."

"Fair enough," Black replied sternly after a moment of staring into each other's eyes and both walked away. This left an impression on several of the troops, including his senior NCO, Gunnery Sergeant Charles Bradley**(Dolph Lundgren)**, and the biggest man on the team.

"Oh I'm gonna enjoy this assignment," the big man said with a characteristic smirk, "Mostly because I'm feeling comfortable in my fifty credit bet you and Fraser will come to blows on this mission."

"Already have a pool going huh Gunny?" Black said without turning to acknowledge him.

"Aren't going to disappoint me are you sir?" Bradley replied slyly hefting his squad automatic weapon in one hand.

"We'll see," Black chuckled.

"Ring room be advised, beginning dialing sequence," the loudspeaker spoke out as the control room began dialing in the address to the planet that the RSEC had now chosen for its first real exploration mission.

And they knew that they had a planet of interest because this was the third time that they had dialed its address. A week ago the RSEC had sent a probe through the ring to check the immediate surroundings of the ring, and found that the planet was able to support life, and apparently did support life of sorts. Large pine trees, small brush, and a couple kinds of cactus had been observed with a few small mammals observed moving about in the immediate area. The temperature was observed to be quite hot with low humidity and reasonably high winds. But these conditions could have simply been an oddity, and to make sure that the RSEC had an idea of what to expect they'd left it there for a five days, and the probe had gathered atmospheric data and a rat and a bird nestled in two cages in the probe hadn't shown any signs of diseases affecting them. The RSEC had noted that the area was the equivalent of a high desert pine forest, similar to what was found on Gemenon. It was quite hot during the day, and quite cold at night, not exactly very comfortable weather. But the probe had also gathered a bit more video data of the surrounding area, taping several different animals, a few birds, and above all looked for signs of civilization, which it didn't see.

This then allowed Recon Team One to properly prepare for this mission. There was a pair of large drones carrying large three hundred gallon tanks which was much more than twice the required amount for each of tank. They also had two equally large drones with supplies like food, coffee, water purification tablets, and several flavors for making their water less boring. Then there was another pair of drones carrying the equipment for the civilians along with their respective tents and cots and finally two more drones carrying the military contingent's equipment, weapons, and ammunition and a final drone meant for carrying a large UAV and a drone helicopter for long range recon. In total nine large eight-wheeled remote-controlled drones were lined up in the large room crawling with technicians, guards, and the team itself.

And these Colonials were now back to the business of exploring a wider galaxy in the quest for knowledge, new economic opportunity, potential alien life, and above all, find Earth. They all watched as the ring began spinning as the mounted rollers began to spin to lock in the coordinates of this planet and send them through.

"Alright, listen up, we've been through this once and we'll go through this again. Stay together and keep your weapons on you at all times. If you feel any sort of medical symptoms coming on alert the Doctor at once. And above all obey your orders the minute they are given," Colonel Black called out, flashing a look at Fraser in particular.

"Chevron seven locked."

And just like that, a large whoosh sounded out and a massive flourish of the event horizon lashed out like a great big, rather dangerous, splash. And just like that it was sucked back in and Colonel Black smirked to himself as many of his team flinched or stuttered backwards. He knew precisely what they felt like, it was quite a thing to see the ring activate in person. But it was another thing to go through it, as they were all about to find out.

**And there's the first chapter. A lot of you will obviously notice that there are no Earth POV sections here. And I realize that, and I'm here to tell you now that there won't be. All Earth POV's will be done in every other chapter, switching back and forth, I changed my mind.**

**Next Chapter Preview: Kobol was just baby-steps compared to what the RSEC is in for now. And unrest is stirring within Sagittaron. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Location: Terra Nova, Fort Jacob Carter Military Training Reserve

Date: February 6, 2025

Time: 1930 Zulu

The silent dark of the Terra Nova night was a beautiful one, none could contest that. The silent shimmer of glowing flora lit up the forest in a vast array of cool blues, greens, purples, reds, oranges, and yellows of every description imaginable. From the neon lit flowers the size of a pumpkin hanging from the branches of the tallest trees to the grass and vines that pulsed to green and blue as the wind disturbed them creating a mystifying pulse that could captivate the most seasoned of Terra Nova's garrison and colonists. There were new species being discovered daily by professors and scientists at Terra Nova University leading bands of eager students into the pristine rainforests of the outer islands and the main military training base housed upon the largest island in the cluster. These little exploration parties always had a trio of armed and armored troops sent from one of the eight new International Response Brigades for protection.

But out here on the Fort Jacob Carter International Training Reserve there were no civilians out exploring for new discoveries. Instead, a pair of armored four wheeled military vehicles was cruising quietly down a worn dirt track on a mission. They were M-403 Wolverine All Terrain Reconnaissance Vehicles from Delta Company of the 1st Infantry Brigade's, 1st Battalion, the Vanguards. This was an American and British Commonwealth brigade of more than five thousand troops that was the pride of the Earth Defense Force's ten infantry brigades as the first unit set to be activated.

The vehicles driving down this rough dirt track were of a deadly and efficient design worked on by British engineers. It was wide, allowing it to follow in the tracks of the larger M-401 Thor Main Battle Tanks and M-402 Honey Badger Armored Personnel Carriers. It was an extremely adaptable vehicle, with modifications that ranged from weapons loadouts comprising of either a fifty caliber machine gun, mini gun, an M-503 Plasma Cannon, a Javelin missile launcher, or nothing at all for a medical variant. This allowed for the Wolverine to become a flexible weapons platform carrying six fully armored troops in the front with the drivers, who could both take control from either one of the seats in the event of one of them being hit or unable to drive. In the back were four seats that were all easily acceible to the doors so that the vehicle could be quickly entered and exited at will. Driving this was a powerful electric motor that had a three week charge within its massive battery banks. This made it extremely quiet, which was precisely what was needed for the mission in mind that these two were on.

There was a complete feeling of calm as the squad of troops within the two Wolverines kept their eyes peeled out into the calm rainforest night. They were none of them activated, each was classified as a trainee, still several weeks from passing the first phase of their arduous training. Their leader was Squad Leader Jason Hanson**(Chris Pine)**, sitting in the shotgun seat in the left hand side of the font Wolverine with the British driver, Lilly McFierce**(Natalie Dormer)**, in the right hand seat driving the Wolverine in what she'd called the "right side of the car," much to the annoyance of her American and Canadian comrades. On the fifty caliber machine gun was the squad he-man, American Tremon Hawkins**(Terry Crews)**, who was practically a walking block of muscles capable of lifting the Wolverines they found themselves driving. He had to duck several times to keep from having his helmeted head swatted by the low lying branches that engulfed the dirt track every so often, voicing his displeasure whenever he wasn't fast enough. In the passenger seats were Canadians Roger Filmore**(Dave Franco)** and Derrick Turgeoues**(Cyril Mourali)**(From Quebec who always spoke French whenever he was unhappy about something), and New Zealander Andrew Tess**(Liam Hemsworth)**. In the opposite Wolverine was the British driver Jeremy Waters**(A Young Jeremy Clarkson)** and Scotsman Richard Kirkham**(Luke Evans)**, Americans Daniel Graves**(Jesse Plemons)**, Anna Smith**(Hayden Panettiere)**, and Douglass Lee**(Donald Glover)**, and the lone Australian Stephanie Powers**(Caitlin Stasey)**.

Each of them had the standard issue M-501 Modular Assault Rifle in or near their hands, loaded with Intar rounds that were set to a maximum power setting to deal with the armor of their opponents, Alpha Company from their own 1st Battalion. The armor, the Mark One Personal Protection Apparatus, that was now standard was a culmination of protective technology that was made up of hardened trinium ballistic plates holding a mesh of shock absorbent Kevlar and trinium foil woven together with temperature regulating circuits that were able to keep their base body temperature within a comfortable margin. Their armor had a chest plate that slid over an abdominal plate the was snapped onto a pair of plates on their back with pockets with enough storage space to hold a dozen spare magazines, and seven grenades of their choosing. These in turn connected to the shoulder plates with other protective armored sections on their arms with a special readout on their recessive wrist displaying anything they needed. They also had a pair of plates on both sides of their waist with thigh and shin plates giving complete protection to the soldiers of Earth.

Then there were their helmets. These helmets were the wet dream of Ghost Recon fanboys as they looked very much like the helmets of Tom Clancy's favored commandoes. There were rail attachments on the front, sides, and back of the helmet for attaching all manner of gadgets and attachments to assist in combat. Their helmets contained a set of built-in cameras, a flashlight, and two types of laser designators. These cameras fed their input to a special deployable secondary visor which could project the night vision feed onto the visor which went all the way around their face with the self-contained breathing apparatus over their nose and connected to the large rigid jaw plates that connected to the helmet itself and sealed itself around the bottom. On the right hand side of the helmet was a bulging section with a stubby little antennae with a thick protective insulation. This little bit was where the brain of the helmet and its voice came from. This compact computer could project a series of windows on the visor where items such as maps with IFF signals added, armor integrity, target identification, squad status, and sharing what it was seeing to every single Earth unit within range.

But much of this ability was shut down for the training exercise, to make the units involved train on relying on themselves rather than their equipment which from day one they'd been told was going to malfunction even if their designers were adamant that they would do no such thing. All they had access to was their night vision, their squad status, and their IFF signals. But, there opposing force had the exact same handicap as they did.

"Why is it that we're always the ones they send out to get shot at first?" came the voice of Tremon over the radio as he ducked beneath a glowing bunch vines that caught around his fifty cal and made him pull the annoying plants off bit by bit.

"Bru it's because the Captain don't like us," Douglas responded from his spot in the back seat of the second Wolverine.

"Well if you buggers would stop calling his "your nigga" maybe he wouldn't sent us on the suicide recon," Lilly replied with classic British tact.

"The Captain's a brotha ain't he?" Trevon responded, "Not my fault he's stuck up."

"He is a superior officer and an English gentleman," Jeremy replied, "He's not your brotha."

"Waters you've never been to hood have you?" Jason responded.

"I lived in a neighborhood in Cheshire, so you know."

"That ain't the hood Waters!" Trevon responded testily.

"Hold it!" Jason all of a sudden snapped, making his Wolverine skid to a stop suddenly.

Then the forest rang out with the sound of metal smashing into metal as the second Wolverine smashed into the rear end of the leader. This hit fishtailed the first Wolverine slightly with a loud scratching and grinding noise that ground the paint off the nose of the Wolverine and bent in the water cans on the back of the first Wolverine. It was impossible to miss it, and the entire squad voiced its discontent.

"Sorry," Waters said weakly in his deep British voice.

"Waters what the fuck's the matter whichyou!" Trevon said holding his hands out in complete disbelief as he stood behind his gun.

"You bloody stupid pom," Andrew, the lone New Zealander groaned as he leaned his helmeted head against the back of Lilly's chair.

"Next time I drive!" Filmore growled from the fifty cal of the second Wolverine.

Lilly just pursed her lips and looked at Jason, "How are we this rubbish?"

"Well when the EDF allows civilians to enlist alongside veterans this is what happens," Jason growled, opening his door.

"What is it boss?" Tremon asked, scanning ahead as Jason looked around, scanning the brush for what he had halted the two Wolverines and lead to their fender bender.

"I don't know, I saw a pulse from the leaves of that batch of ferns over there," Jason responded quietly, pointing to a slightly raised position to their left front about thirty meters away, "Dismount."

"The brush is too thick for it to be a gust of wind," Tess whispered as he and the others secured the immediate area, ducking down into the low but thick glowing brush, sending glowing dots of pollen and small whisps of bug swarms to rise from the ground.

"The critters don't hunker down in the brush at night we would've seen a bigger disturbance," Filmore added over the radio, drawing from past experience fighting at night and learning about the way the Terra Nova brush acts, moves, and breathes.

"Section One, on me, let's check it out," Jason calmly ordered, and pulled his rifle tight to his shoulder, hunkering down low in the undergrowth, "Quietly."

Jason carefully moved forward, keeping his weapon ready to go, and finger ready to pull the trigger, but maintained careful trigger discipline as he had been trained to in the National Guard's 36th Infantry Division. Behind him was Graves, McFierce, and Filmore with Hawkins covering them with the fifty caliber. All four of them carefully advanced, picking their way through root and mossy rock strewn ground. But before they could confirm what exactly was in front of them a stream of red bolts streaked right at them as the loud chattering sound of the machine gun it was fired from lit up the treeline off to their right.

"Contact right!" Tess called out, firing back immediately, ducking to a knee.

"Get to cover now!" Hanson ordered, "Report contact to the Captain!"

Jason ducked down to his back immediately, instinctively dropping behind a root covered rock for cover. He saw and heard the return fire from the rest of his squad mates as the single popping sounds of the opfor's rifles. He heard the radio call of one of his trooper's radios calling their company CO to alert them to their contact with the opfor. The red bolts streaked back and forth between the groups of EDF troopers and their vehicles' own weapons. The brush was so thick that the ambushed recon squad couldn't see what they were shooting at except for where the red intar stun rounds were coming from.

Jason looked out and saw the flash of a single rifle and this illuminated the outline of a single armored opponent leaning up against a tree trunk above the brush. He snapped his rifle up, aiming down through his hybrid sight and lined up the red crosshairs on his target and pulled the trigger, letting a three round burst fly downrange. The rounds impacted right on target, slamming right in the man's chest, making him lurch back, collapsing against the tree. Jason then got the idea of where the machine gun was, judging from the arc of fire and the impacts of the other rounds from his own squad. And that fire seemed to be getting less effective, as he saw Tess take a shot to his right as he tried crawling back towards better cover and he couldn't hear the fifty calibers of their Wolverines firing anymore, and this meant that they'd already knocked them out of the game. A classic ambush is what it was, they'd targeted their heavy machine guns from the outset. And now his own squad was reduced from the original force as he checked the squad status to see that Lee, Tess, and Pierce were already down.

"Everyone fall back to the Wolverines, I want fire superiority! Someone get on those guns!" Jason yelled.

"They've got our guns zeroed Hanson, what the fuck are we supposed to do?!" Smith yelled as she tried firing back at scattered targets.

"Then fight back and cover me!" Hanson growled as he jumped up and sprinted back to the lead Wolverine.

He could see his squad light up the brush as rounds kept coming back at them. He saw that Hawkins wasn't down, but was holding his M-506 SAW in one hand with the bipod propped on the hood, firing away. Jason ducked into the Wolverine, pulling the door shut with his boot and scrambled over the armrest and slinked his way up through the fully enclosed turret and grasped the fifty caliber in both hands after pulling the action back and took aim. But before he opened fire a stream of red intar rounds pummeled the roof and turret of the Wolverine from several directions.

However, having been in a similar situation in Afghanistan near Kabul while on an advisory role that turned into a fight for survival, Jason knew to duck forward, placing the strongest part of his armor as the only thing that could be hit. It was effective, and as soon as the fire died off for a split second he pulled up, and aimed right at the source of what he thought was the position of one of their machine guns. The heavy rapid thuds of the big HMG hammered away, slicing away the ferns, brush, and vines and soon enough Jason saw a pair of troopers make a break for better cover, and took them out.

"Tangos down!" Jason heard Hawkins yell, confirming his hits.

Then, as they were starting to see the fire of the enemy die off, another sparkle of lights and intar rounds lanced out at them from the right. And they were caught off guard with this attack to their rear. The banging noises of the rounds slamming into the armor of their vehicles shocked the mostly rookie squad. But Jason whirled the turret around and let loose a volley of fire. He didn't see two of his team go down as they rushed for cover and another one of their number get hit in the back as she simply ducked down, being somewhat slow to react.

"We're in a crossfire! Fall back! Fall back! I'll cover you," Jason ordered, flinching down as the intar rounds from both sides hit his turret.

Jason squeezed off another few bursts, trying to adequately cover his squad as they began to back off, trying to break from the one-sided engagement they found themselves in. He knew it was about time to get out of there, and popped the back of the turret open and scrambled out, rolling out and falling flat on his stomach as he fell from the rather large vehicle. Enemy fire followed him down, striking the ground and his vehicle. He peaked up, and saw that it may have been his chance and took off trying to link up with the rest of his squad. But as made a break for it, he saw something that royally pissed him off.

The remnants of his squad were standing straight up, weapons on the ground, their hands on their heads, and were surrounded by a group of troops, and two of them were ten feet from him with their rifles aimed right at his head. In Afghanistan he would have sooner tried shooting his way into a heroic death rather than a slow torture and then become the subject of a jihadi beheading video. But here, that wasn't the case, in exercises like this they were told just to accept being a prisoner, so they wouldn't have to deal with grudges, petty rivalries, and injuries from the fighting that such acts would cause. In the initial force on force exercises this was a problem but it subsided after the bad apples and stubborn cases were properly disciplined or got it out of their systems. Still, it didn't make losing any easier for a veteran like Jason, as he was one of those stubborn ones.

"Sorry mate," one of them chuckled.

"Not your day fella, nice fight though," the other one was all too pleased with saying.

"Yeah fuck you guys," Jason growled, throwing his rifle down after unbuckling the weapon from his vest.

"Don't do it Jason," Hawkins warned.

"Let's go, you're done for the night tough guy."

"Keep your hands off me," Jason warned as both went to force him forward.

"Yeah what're you gonna do?" the Brit among them laughed.

"I'll ask you how many deployments to Afghanistan you've been on before kicking your ass," Jason asked quite testily, poking at his chest.

"None," a new voice called out, "But_ I_ have been doing ops longer than you've been alive trooper."

All three of them whirled around to see an armored individual who was quite a bit older than all of them. They all recognized him immediately, and snapped to attention. This was General Jack O'Neill the commanding officer of the entire Earth Defense Force.

"General on deck!"

"No I'm not, as you were," the General responded waving them down as he turned around, "Squad leader, play nice."

"Y-yes sir," Jason replied and calmly walked along with the rest of his squad as they were taken to be locked up in the prisoner section used for these types of exercises.

"They've got a long way to go," O'Neill couldn't help but grumble to himself, shaking his head.

"Sir they're just beginning their combat exercises. It'll take some time to get these units in sync. But by traditional standards that wasn't a half bad job," the voice of the newly minted Brigadier General Cam Mitchell replied from his own observation point with the other company's company commander, "At least they're actually fighting by now. My pilots are still working on training aircraft. We haven't even gotten them in the cockpit of the Banshees."

"We've been training these kids for nearly two years," O'Neill grumbled, "You'd think that we would have made more progress."

O'Neill had a point. The Earth Defense Force had officially existed for three years, and the force it had become was quite impressive, at least on paper. They had over half a million young men and women on the pay roll from all across the world. And those that were here had survived the selective process that had filtered over two million people through a six months-long selection process that had gotten rid of the wannabe's, dreamers, and medically unfits and left them with a promising force of recruits who were slated to be fully activated within the year. This was tantalizing for O'Neill and the other senior commanders. Earth was for the first time capable of large scale operations with a ground force of sixty combat brigades divided into forty infantry and twenty armored brigades. Although the infantry brigades were a bit oddly named, seeing as they were more synonymous with mechanized brigades being heavily armored. Backing up this impressive force was a plethora of eighty independent support battalions. And each brigade had already been paired with its own LST-313 _Fearless _Class Heavy Assault Platform and four LSA-312_ Enforcer_ Class Assault Ships.

This was a total force of three hundred ships for transporting and supporting their impressive ground forces. A decade ago a force like this was never even imaginable for Earth. But thanks to the enormous orbital shipyards of Terra Nova these ships had been cranked out steadily over the years, the final batches now going through trials and outfitting. But while the ships' crews were being trained all of them were tucked securely in the massive island fortress that was the Fort Jacob Carter Military Training Reserve. They were all docked underground, in a system of stacked hangars four hundred feet below the surface interconnected with a maglev rail system that was meant for rapidly and efficiently transporting and loading vehicles, troops, weapons, supplies, and equipment on board in complete secrecy. The _Enforcer_ Assault Ships were stacked six high on four sides per hangar, and were spread out in a grid of ten different cloaked and shielded openings on the surface. The _Fearless_ Heavy Assault Platforms were stowed in five slightly deeper and much larger hangars with three ships stacked on top of one another on each side of a square opening that was cloaked and shielded just like their smaller and more numerous cousins.

But before these troops could be deployed aboard Earth's mighty invasion fleet they would need training, and lots of it, which was what they had been doing for a solid year now. After each new recruit had been gathered up and shipped out to Terra Nova they'd been split into their branches of either Fleet or Planetary Response Corps, and training had begun. They were all subjected to the finest training regimen that anyone on Earth had ever seen. Its first twenty week phase was the basics, teaching proper protocol, discipline, and above all, fitness. The twenty week hell was a blend of international training styles taking best aspects from the all over the military world and turning it into twenty weeks of absolute hell. Recruits were subjected to the most challenging tests of physical and mental strength, fitness, and toughness. And all the while they needed to keep their wits about them and solve problems as they were at the razor's edge of their limits.

Obstacle courses were scattered all over the island along training routes and courses which had been designed by the same geniuses who had designed the courses of the world famous Ninja Warrior TV show and Gladiator Assault Challenge. These recruits had been the first of hundreds of thousands to be tested on these incredible crucibles, and were to this day subjected to a couple runs a day on courses that in some places went uphill, downhill, across rivers, on the edges of cliffs, and anywhere in between. These courses melded with the rolling hills, brush, forests, and streams, building up both the recruits' physical strength and mental ingenuity in the face of extreme adversity.

Then they were trained on basic weapons and combat. Experienced SG Teams and world leading Special Forces instructors had started molding these recruits into soldiers, teaching them how to work every weapon in the EDF's now considerable arsenal, forcing each to pass rigorous combat tests with their weapons against each other and their own instructors in some cases. To add to their misery they did all of this in full gear by now, and continued running the ever evolving Crucibles with little to no sleep, food, or water. It bordered on dangerous and often crossed that line but it was meant to reap profit when these soldiers went into real combat for the first time.

But this massive force was still ten weeks away from formal activation and the fleet was fifteen weeks away due to their own more detailed training as part of a crew onboard the most advanced ships in the galaxy. And these ships were already in orbit of Terra Nova and many of the adjacent planets and Earth itself. A huge fleet had been built up in the years since the Stargate Program had been disclosed, or at least the parts the military allowed to be disclosed. Hundreds of warships had been mass produced and stored in orbital shipyards, awaiting the crews which had begun their training on board ten weeks ago. The core of this fleet was its thirty Battle Carriers, the sisters of the Enterprise. And in support of this core force were nearly one thousand five hundred other combat vessels like the ever reliable Battle Cruisers, lethal Battleships, and incredibly flexible Carriers. But escorting all of them were the incredibly fast and maneuverable DD-311 _Huntsman _Class Destroyers, of which they had hundreds, only needing thirty crewmen and women to be completely manned and at a minimum it only takes one trained crewman to get it to maneuver.

Then there were the pilots. Each had been even more selectively chosen and filtered, having over two hundred thousand applicants, only to have around ten percent make the cut and these pilots were already training hard, flying 'round the clock in simulators, training aircraft that were effectively original F-302's with the back seat, and were ready for their own Banshees, thousands of which were tucked away in vast underground hangars linked to elevators at the large seven large airbases that were able to bring up these fighters to swap out with the surface detachment of Banshees along with U-306 Ghost Stealth Scout Craft, A-308 Mohican Gunships, and LCS-314 Condor Dropships. In their own three separate underground hangars along the coast were the EDF's atmospheric aircraft, A/H-322 Comanche Helicopter Gunships and U/H-324 Vulture Utility Helicopters. These pilots had been training on their craft for some time, with combat exercises already happening several times a day.

This force had shown itself to be able engage in small unit actions such as the one that O'Neill just witnessed, but having been a black ops operator he had high expectations. By traditional standards this little ambush was by the book, they engaged with surprise, violence of action, and crossfire. The capture of the other half of the squad wasn't a bad prize as well. The ambushed unit also had grounds for being commended, they didn't panic, they returned fire accurately and with their own level of intensity as the casualties inflicted upon the ambushers testified. O'Neill was also impressed with the fact that if he hadn't have stepped in the fight wouldn't have ended quietly, they had the will to fight to the last, and for a commander that is quite important.

But first O'Neill would need these troops to graduate, which to be honest upon reflection was looking to be an absolute certainty. These units were as good as they got, and the enormous city of Terra Nova Colony couldn't ask for a more secure insurance policy than the forces above and below them in the underground network of hangars, barracks, weapons placements, shield generators, and command centers that was the fortress of Terra Nova.

Terra Nova University

First day of class, with one of the most esteemed professors of Terra Nova University, and everyone in the class of eighty was brimming with excitement. Many were of course young high school graduates, but many were also professors of their own fields, seeking to gain their own growth in knowledge so that they would be able to take that knowledge and experience back to their own home schools and break the monopoly TNU had on offworld studies, advanced physics, and offworld botany, among the other options students could choose.

But recent high school graduate and freshman Hannah McGee**(Jennifer Lawrence)** wasn't looking to make money off of her chosen career path in Interplanetary Studies. That wasn't to say that the pay for it wasn't supposed to be good as part of an SG Team's civilian component, it was indeed very good. But more than that it was the opportunity of a lifetime to explore the galaxy, meet new cultures, and eventually she could end up teaching herself. Hannah wanted that life, she'd known that was what she wanted the moment the President had revealed the existence of the best kept secret of all time, the Stargate Program.

She remembered exactly where she was when that speech was made by every participating world power's head of state. Hannah had been seated in the room next to the family room, studying for her final exams of her junior year when she heard the release statement of how America had led the way into the stars and was then joined by most major powers in the finding of human worlds, alien species, one of which was mentioned to have been the root cause of how humans found their way off of Earth. And the thing was this, the President had said that thanks to some alien allies they'd been able to defeat them, and were now capable of so much in terms of technological superiority that Earth was now capable of colonizing different planets.

Needless to say, there were problems, lots of them. Protests erupted in every major city on Earth, most of them just that, protests, few ever turned into riots. A couple American embassies found themselves vandalized by citizens of nations who didn't like the fact that the Stargate Command was under American command in America. The Middle East was racked by unrest as investors realized that their days as an economic powerhouse of oil production were numbered. Nations like Iran, North Korea, and many of the African and South/Latin American nations were understandably outraged.

The more volatile of them went so far as to threaten to attack and seize what they felt they were owed, mobilizing their militaries for action. But upon UN authorization, the fleet was cleared to intervene should they attack and Iran got wise and shut up while North Korea completely collapsed after the enormous mobilization had completely emptied their oil and gas reserves in concert with a very bad famine that finally turned the military against the dictatorship that had held the North Koreans under a hellish rule and asked for negotiations to begin to form a new government which quickly gave way to the want for unification with South Korea, who were oh so glad to finally see their northern cousins come to their senses.

But the protestors who were shouting such nonsense agendas like Greenpeace who wanted no colonization whatsoever, lest an untouched world be "contaminated", or the unrealistic people who thought they had a right to know everything the government does despite very good reasons for them not to know, finally realized they weren't changing anyone's minds. They still protested on message boards and press releases, trolling the internet, but were no longer on the front pages. So the long process of applications to become colonists began, and among them was Hannah McGee, who, as a student of TNU her own family was allowed to join her offworld, but declined the offer.

That wasn't to say many of the other students' families didn't accept, most did, and as did the military dependents of the EDF. Who, in concert with families, singles, and others who came to Terra Nova with their skills, languages, businesses, and cultures created Earth's first colony of, by now, two million people from across the world. And that great diversity was reflected within the classroom that Hannah sat in.

"Good evening everyone," Hannah heard over the speakers of the auditorium, and looked up. Walking up to the front of the stage was a reasonable fit man wearing glasses, her professor, Dr. Daniel Jackson, "Welcome to Terra Nova University."

"He's cute," Hannah could hear a girl behind her whisper.

"I would like to thank you, and commend you for taking this class," Jackson said with a smile on his face, "As the syllabuses you had on your seats will tell you this is no ordinary class. You will be introduced to and will study a wealth of cultures from the primitive to the advanced. And, if my friends from there aren't too busy you can meet them."

That declaration got a reaction, murmurs from across the room floated into the air as Jackson started his lecture with a powerpoint projected onto the screen behind him. On its title page was something that the students in the room had by now become quite familiar, the Stargate. But the pictures were fading in and out, going between deserts, jungles, forests, swamps, plains, and mountains. All of them had the Stargate in the foreground, and all were very much real.

"This, is where it all began. The Stargate, made by a civilization that existed millions of years ago. They were known by several names, the Alterans, the Lanteans, and the Ancients," Jackson began, "They looked a lot like humans in physical appearance and overall physiological make-up."

The pictures then changed upon the click of control Jackson was holding. It then changed to pictures of a group of human looking people. Hannah took down notes rapidly, stating the important facts. But she hesitated at seeing the Ancients' appearance. And someone noticed it as well and raised a hand.

"Yes, question?" Jackson smiled, and pointed at the guy who proceeded to ask his question.

"How do we know what the appearance of these Ancients was?"

"Well in my time at Stargate Command myself and several others encountered Ancients both alive, dead, and in stasis."

"You've encountered them Doctor?" Hannah piped up, "I thought you said they were dead?"

"Well," Jackson replied with a smile, "Some of those incidents are technically classified. But my own personal experience is for another time."

"The military is still holding back Doctor?"

"Well yes," Jackson responded, "What happened is still classified and I don't think we'll see those incidents being released to the general public and that's that."

"Were you involved in anything that is still classified?" someone else asked, and Jackson had to pause, knowing that this question was a trap.

"No, can't say I have, I worked there quite a while," Jackson thought out loud, or at least played like he did, "Now if we can avoid any questions about the habits of military confidentiality…we have a lot to cover."

Terra Nova, Stargate Command

"It's different, I'll give you that Hank."

"A lot has changed since you…" General Landry replied…trying to figure out the right words to describe the unique situation that the Colonel standing next to him.

"Since I was cloned and decided on living my own life?" newly arrived Colonel Jack O'Neill (Model 2.0 as he liked to call himself) replied.

"Yeah, how's that working for ya?" Landry chuckled, turning from the control room window back into the newly renovated Stargate Command Control Room.

"Not too bad," O'Neill replied, "But there's no place like home."

The control room was at least bigger than the last one, with several banks of computer control stations keeping tabs on every aspect and every back-up function of the Stargate. The window angled up at the ceiling to deflect anything it could away from the guards on the ground floor who were the part of the ever present security detail in the room. In that room was a pair of reinforced concrete bunkers with a fifty caliber machine gun in each. They were up above the floor, able to fire over the heads of their comrades at the Stargate ramp. Then to add a more powerful line of defense that wasn't manned in person there were four turrets mounting M-514 7.62mm six-barreled Miniguns. Two were mounted above and slightly in front of the fifty caliber machine guns and the other two were mounted above and in front of them. That gave Stargate Command the ability to put down twenty thousand rounds per minute without a single soldier within the room.

Throughout Stargate Command were these turrets, hidden in the ceiling with their own power supplies and huge ammunition storage drums. Every corridor had one, with one mounted at each entrance to each junction. And controlling these turrets was a complex sensor system that was able to take action the moment there was a security breach. Not that it was likely to happen, there weren't many people who had that ability any more.

"There's probably more that's changed than what you remember," Landry pointed out, "Like not having our center of operations on Earth for instance."

"And not letting team leaders choose their teams?" O'Neill asked testily.

"We're not going back there Colonel," Landry replied, "You got to choose the military half."

"Just saying, if I'm going to take command of a new SG-1 I want to choose my team, the whole team."

"I don't think you'd choose any civilians if you had a choice," Landry responded.

"And here I thought I wasn't going to be very predictable," O'Neill half gasped.

"Once an operator always an operator," Landry laughed, "Regardless, you'd best get your team acquainted with one another. Miss Jackson is volunteering for a mission we've got lined up to P5X-471, I'm giving it to SG-1."

"Well at least I'll finally get back to work," O'Neill smiled, "Even if I'll have to go with the she-demon."

"She-demon, never heard that one before," a young female voice piped up from behind O'Neill.

"She's standing right behind me isn't she?" O'Neill meekly asked.

"Yes," the young woman in question replied, walking next to O'Neill, arms crossed over her chest, "She is. Colonel O'Neill isn't it?"

"What did the eagles on my collar and the name on my chest give me away?" O'Neill replied.

"I see the Asgard sure knew how to clone, they even made you as annoying as the original."

Brenda Jackson**(Madison Riley)** was the only daughter of Senator Jackson, the very same man who had been a thorn in the side of the military for years and got himself shot. The poor guy had been paralyzed by the bullet, but stayed on with the IOA and that's when Brenda's star really began rising and she became infamous among the military. The young blonde was on Senator Jackson's staff since she had turned eighteen, and had served on that staff for ten years, and in that decade and especially in the six years since her father had been shot she had become a real pain in the ass. And now she was here, hell bent on making a name for herself.

She had been placed as the team leader of a newly created team, which itself was a subcomponent of SG-1. Its name was Stargate Exploration Team One. It was twice the size of the previous SG-1, with eight men and women, the team leader, a pair of tech experts, a botanist, a geologist, a pair of medical doctors, and a cultural expert and interpreter. This team was just half of the large team, the military contingent was a handpicked unit of nine men and women which was known as Stargate Strike Team One, it was responsible for several things; protection of the civilians and as a special strike team capable of hitting anything and anywhere and getting away.

"I see you two have now met," Landry said, "O'Neill, Jackson, why don't the two of you get your team together and have a meet and greet? When you're offworld out there all you've got is each other."

"Don't need to explain that to me," O'Neill responded, saluting and walking out with Brenda rolling her eyes at him as she went to follow him.

"Miss Jackson, there's not going to be a problem between you and Colonel O'Neill is there?" Landry asked.

"We'll see."

**That's that folks. The second chapter is now posted, and as always let me know what you think. I'm always receptive to constructive criticism and useful ideas. And you may notice I changed my mind about having duel sequels, it's just too much work and I figured switching POV's back and forth every chapter would be more efficient.**

**Next Chapter Preview: Well how about that, there's always a Jackson on SG-1. The question is this, how will the new guys compare to the old crew. A new planet with a whole lot of scientists itching to go, time to explore. And what's Carter up to?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2**

Location: Unknown Planet, Colonial Basecamp

Date February 6, 2020

Time: 1925 Hours

Things had been, in a word, surprisingly quiet since the Colonial exploration team had first set foot on this planet. Aside from the expected headbutting and whining that came when they needed to set up basecamp of course. But the tents and the cargo ROV's had been set up quite quickly and as was expected of the best, efficiently. They were tented up underneath the shade of the tall pines with the biology and geology tents set as far away from one another as Colonel Black allowed. Because it was quite clear that the two teams did not like one another. So with the tents arranged close together in a block with an open area in the middle where the water carrying ROV's were positioned underneath the shade of a large pop-up to minimize the heat their water was exposed to.

There were eight tents in total, with several shade pop-ups that were where a handful of tables and small chairs were set up with battery powered lanterns hanging from the middle of them. At each corner of the perimeter lasers and receivers were set up to alert the Colonials to any breach of security with loud whistles and lights. Trail cams similar to what was used by hunters and game wardens in the Colonies were laid out along game trails to get a look at any critters that took these paths whenever the biologists weren't looking. There were a couple of latrines set away from camp for men and women to use the facilities in peace.

So with all these basecamp tasks to complete it was a wonder the civilians had gotten any work done at all. But they had, and set about it with gusto. The biologists had immediately set about their own work, gathering plant specimens from every different species they saw, sealing them in glass specimen jars after digging out whatever ones they could. They'd actually had over a fifty such jars, and once they realized they were running out they'd forced themselves to reluctantly stop. And then they'd gotten to the toughest part of their job, at least as far as biologists go, observing and then collecting animal specimens. For this job they had numerous trail cameras, a tall panorama camera, and then for collection they had an pump action pellet gun for tackling small critters and for bigger ones, should they feel the need to do so, they were allowed to borrow the military contingent's sniper, Sergeant Joe Warren, who was itching for a chance to be the first Colonial to tackle a big game animal offworld.

However, as much as he wanted to, the biologists were hell-bent on observing first, and collecting only when they had to, and unfortunately the team sniper, the pellet gun and Sergeant Warren's rifle had gone unused. But he was still required to stick with them as they made several circles around the secured perimeter away from camp to observe and report on whatever peaked their interest.

"When are you gonna let me shoot somethin' Doc?" Warren asked tiredly as he trailed behind the pair of scientists and his spotter who was leading the foursome forward.

"When I tell you Sergeant, or if it attacks us," Dr. Gorman replied, walking forward with his own assistant, Dr. Steven Martin, carrying the heavier gear and the pellet gun slung over his shoulder. Neither were wearing their helmets, replacing them with some more comfortable patrol caps and had on a pair of sunglasses.

"What would it be Doc? Care to let us in on the secret?" Corporal Katie Corlew responded with a laugh.

"Your guess is as good as ours Katie," Martin said with a smile, giving her a wink.

"Out here I'd guess…large reptile," she said after a second of thought, "With all this sun a reptile would have the ability to quickly warm up and we've seen enough squirrels and rabbits and birds to sustain one as they digest rather slowly."

"Very good Corporal," Dr. Gorman said with some surprise, "You may have chosen the wrong career. You know your stuff."

"Nah, I like what I'm doing."

"Well we're always glad to have you tag along with us," Martin replied again, easily revealing his crush on the blonde Marine.

"Not up to us Doc," Sergeant Warren reminded him, "Not that I'd mind hanging out with ya'll."

"You just want an excuse to hunt don't you?"

"What was your first clue?"

"Freaking Picon hillbilly," Corporal Corlew grumbled under her breath.

"Whoa, hold on," Dr. Gorman whispered quietly, crouching down on his haunches.

"What is it?" Warren whispered, holding his rifle at the ready, keeping his eyes peeled.

"Saw something over there, I think it might be one of those deer-like mammals we saw on the drone's camera."

"Deer? That's pretty big game," Warren said calmly, "Hunted plenty of those back home."

"Let's try getting some footage of it first shall we?" Martin responded, getting out the camera and passing it up his boss who promptly held it up, zooming in on the relative area he'd heard the noise come from. And after a second or two he saw exactly what he thought he'd heard.

"Look at that," Martin whistled quietly, pulling up his laser measuring device which he promptly aimed at the smallest of the red furred deer-like creatures.

The bright green laser points didn't bother the deer at all, who were too busy feeding on small patches of green plants. It was quite a simple tool, with the two parallel lasers that were arranged a foot apart.

"Sure you don't need a sample Doc?" Warren chuckled as he looked at the large antlers on the only male deer among the deer.

"I'm quite certain," Gorman whispered with a smile.

"Alright," came the entertained reply.

"Like I said, Picon hillbilly," Corlew grumbled as she too observed the small herd of deer.

"Hmm…looks like they're getting kinda agitated," Dr. Gorman said, laying his thoughts out there.

Indeed the deer were somewhat anxious, their ears were up and scanning as the lead male was sniffing and snorting, flinching back every so often which caused the other ones to do the same thing.

"He's looking at somethin' over there."

"Well he didn't like it, they're leaving," Katie whispered, herself now getting somewhat uneasy.

And just like she'd observed the little band of deer trotted away at a pretty good clip. They herd was very quick to disappear over the hill to the left and this left more burning questions in the mind of the two biologists.

"What do you think? Signs of a predator? A rival herd?" Martin said quietly, and put away the measuring device.

"Let's find out," Dr. Gorman said with a whisper, and walked forward, much to the surprise of the two soldiers.

"Whoa hold on there fellas," Warren said quickly, "We lead."

He and Corlew quickly made their way forward, taking up the leading position, weapons at the ready in the knowledge that _something_ had made the deer skittish and who knew what it was or how dangerous it was. But more importantly they had no clue as to _where_ it was.

"I'm not seeing anything Warren," Corlew said as she got to where the deer had been standing.

"Keep a look out, Doc, make it quick."

"Doctor Martin, break out the black light, look for urine markers," Gorman said, going down on a knee, and sniffed the air, smelling something musky in the air, "Sergeant do your Picon White Deer mark territory?"

"All the time, mostly they do it scent rubbed on trees or with bellows."

As they were looking around Corporal Corlew was moving in a slow half circle a few yards away. And as she was walking she felt her foot drop into a very slight depression, and she happened to glance down at it, knowing that the deer had been looking at something on the ground. What she saw made her gasp slightly.

"Doc…found something."

What she found herself standing in was a very big footprint that was basically a large version of a human foot. It had five toes, a heel print in the back and the same overall shape. She had never seen anything like it in her life, and she was quite certain that her comrades were in the same boat.

"What in the…" Martin whistled in complete shock.

"Now this… is a discovery," Dr. Gorman whispered, taking out a small camera and a ruler and snapped a few pictures.

"That looks very human," she said continuing to stare at it.

"That's not human Corporal, far too large, see your print? It fits in it completely, and it's nearly twice as long," Gorman replied, pointing at the slight imprint of her boot inside the prints.

"So what is it? Some kinda creature with human-like feet?"

"I'd say a very big creature, this print is quite deep for the ground being as hard as it is."

"Could it be dangerous?" Corlew asked worriedly.

"Well as far as we know mankind's closest biological relative is the Crowned Ape on Gemenon, and they have quite a temper if you get on their bad side," Martin replied.

"So, probably pretty frakkin' dangerous?" Warren surmised.

"Yeah best assume so."

"Pst…Warren, over there," Corlew whispered very quietly, almost inaudible in fact.

She was looking up the hill they'd been going down off to the right. Her head was down, eyes glued to her ACOG scope. She was looking at something that they hadn't seen quite yet, something unnatural. Up above them was a tall thin tree trunk jutting out of the ground. But was getting her attention was the fact that the rootball was on the wrong end of the trunk.

"What in the…" Gorman whispered, trying to put his mind around it.

"Let's check it out, carefully," Dr. Gorman suggested.

"Think we should tell the Colonel?"

"What do you think?" Warren growled in annoyance.

"Take that as a hell yes," she grumbled under her breath as she keyed her comm, "Colonel, this Corporal Corlew, come in."

"Go 'head."

"Sir, we've found something, a very big footprint, nearly twice the size of a human print. We're investigating another sign of this creature right now. And the doc says it might be dangerous."

"Very well, if you feel like you're in danger don't hesitate to open fire."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Warren chuckled as they reached the top of the hill, sweeping his rifle back and forth and saw nothing except for more reasons to have questions.

"Okay, we might be dealing with a sentient being here," Dr. Gorman whispered in awe of what he was seeing.

What these four Colonials were confronted with was a large ring of hand sized stones arranged around this upside down tree trunk. And in four groupings exactly ninety degrees apart were much larger piles of these stones.

"A sentient?" Martin asked, more to himself than anything, "Could it be that creature? The one who owned that track?"

"More than likely," Dr. Gorman said, picking up one of the stones and examining it, "I don't see any humans around here."

"Or at least that we've seen," Warren responded, "Look at this."

Everyone turned to see Warren holding up a piece of brown paper-like material with a burnt end rolled up in a cylinder smaller than their pinky fingers.

"A cigar?" Martin asked.

"Cigarette," Warren replied, sniffing the material lightly, "Been here a while."

"So our creature smokes?" Dr. Gorman mused, "Now that's a shame."

"Or it could be someone else, another group of humans," Martin started to say.

"You don't think…" Corlew asked, putting the facts together.

"Earth? You think they could've been responsible for…this?" Gorman asked, "I don't think so. The cigarette I bet was them but this…no an Earth biologist may have been standing here wondering the same thing I'm wondering. What kind of creature is out here?"

Location: Sagittaron, Mountains North of Tawa

The Sagittaron Freedom Movement had been driven underground for a very long time now. After their big move against the police station and jail that saw them free two hundred members of their movement the government had really cracked down on their known safe houses and strongholds. They'd been desperate in fact, and soon ran out of places to strike and found that the SFM had been a step ahead.

Their rather limited resources had been moved out of the cities, towns, and even the villages, and moved into the remote mountains, and then further hidden in the depths of the extensive silver mines that hadn't been utilized for hundreds of years. And here, they were safe, secret, and able to stay that way for a long time. So the vast majority of the SFM except for the highest and most wanted leaders had hung up their guns and bombs to return to a normal life, and wait. Recruitment had gone on as was always necessary for such a movement, minor shootings and press releases had kept the government thinking they'd busted the network down to a third rate group of thugs.

But thugs didn't plan for the long run, they didn't mass military grade weapons, explosives, and supplies to prepare for their inevitable move to, in their minds, free their planet. With these plans, preparations and other such strategic maneuvers they'd learned what to do and what not to do. They'd learned how to prepare an attack without garnering interest from their hunters, they'd learned how to amass weapons without arousing suspicion, and they'd learned who they could trust to recruit for them.

Sagittaron was quiet yes, but it would not be that way for much longer if their preparations continued as scheduled. At the moment Tom Zarek was at the permanent headquarters of the SFM's operations, deep within the silver mines with an entrance that was hidden expertly beneath overgrown evergreen trees and shrubs planted on top of a large folding door built for the purpose by a sympathizer in a nearby farming village. It was a quite well equipped command center for such a remote location. But after several years of forced isolation the SFM had to improvise. An offshoot tunnel was home to a bank of diesel generators that helped run the ancient air conditioning systems that kept air flowing throughout the complex. A large McGuyvered fuel tank fed all of these from the back of the room as well as their small mess facility that was able to house a dozen or so men and women at a time. In the midst of this HQ was a table layered with maps, lists, blueprints, photographs and everything needed for them to plan out whatever minor attack that would keep them looking like amateurs.

But on this table was currently a map of Tawa's underground catacombs. With marks where the SFM planned on digging tunnels to the surface or breaching the sewer mains to move fighters and weapons back and forth. Many of these went to autoshops where they planned on mating heavy weapons with flatbed trucks. Others went under police stations that would be packed with explosives and await the signal to be detonated. And still other smaller tunnels went right to the doorsteps of Army Reserve armories, chalk full of weapons and equipment. However all of these were low on the totem pole compared to their highest priority target, the nuclear powerplant on the edge of the city where they planned to take control of their trump card.

"How much longer are we gonna wait Tom?" Meier, Zarek's right hand man, asked as they finished the daily briefing on what the status of their preparations was.

"When we're ready we'll go. But as of now…we're not ready. We have to hit everything that the people see as associated with their oppressors all at once. And then we need to exploit it, and most of all get the people on our side."

"The Army and Fleet will pounce as soon as we launch our attacks. We have to find a way to keep them off of us don't we?"

"That's the reason we're getting a hold of the plutonium in the Tawa Nuclear Plant. We split it up into small enough dirty bombs to plant them on ships, nuke one of them and show we have the ability and willingness to use them."

"How do we get the material aboard enough ships to prevent them from being found?" Meier asked again.

"Leave that to me. But anyway, that'll buy us enough time and leverage to seize complete control of the major cities and equip a force with the weapons, equipment, and vehicles we have in these armories to form and support a legitimate government that we immediately have to get going on to organize elections."

"We've gone down this road before Tom you know that."

"This time it's different, we've always been afraid of being viewed as the black sheep, the one colony going against the many. But we're not alone anymore, Earth is out there, it's independent, and when the government tried to get them to join a fight broke out. We use that to our advantage. We point out that Earth has the right idea, that the government, in its quest for power and money tried subjugating Earth and Earth refused so they tried to do it by force and Earth stood their ground."

"It might be tough to prove that."

"But results are hard to deny, Earth's gone and the government's been made to look tyrannical, and that is just what we've needed to make this work."

"An example of the government trying exploit another colony for their own greed," he responded.

"And try and fail. They're an example we can say we're following," Zarek grinned, "And maybe, just maybe, there's a slim chance that Earth might see what we're facing and trying to do and help us."

"I don't know about that," Meier responded with a shrug, "They're more likely to not even know about it. And even then they won't try to actively help us."

"No but who's to say we don't already have it?" Zarek said with a smile.

"You mean to tell me that we're gonna bluff about it? And if Earth comes back they'll deny it and our bluff will be called."

"And what will the Quorum do first if they return? I think they might react a bit too impetuous don't you? Arming a terrorist group is likely to piss off the feds don't you think?"

"A war might break out…wouldn't that be just grand?"

Location: Caprica, Caprica City

Colonial Unification Day was a busy time for the Colonies. Fireworks, barbeques, parades, and culminating in one great display of Colonial power: The Grand Parade in the center of Caprica Square boasting the biggest recruiting tool for the Colonial Armed Services, over a hundred thousand troops marching en masse complete with tanks, artillery, missile systems, Vipers and Raptors of the Fleet, and this year, a single Marinestar in the center of this mass of power.

This was still a ways away, and it wasn't Laura Roslin's responsibility. Her job, at least as far as Unification Day was concerned, was to make certain that the people she'd delegated to deal with the preparations that fell within the education branch's reach were moving along. Normally she saw to it herself, being on the ground to see the new floats, preview screenings of any new documentaries about Unification Day, and go around to the many different museums to see what they were doing in preparation for the grand event. She also had to make certain that her department had its eggs in order so to speak, as the last event of Unification Day was the State of Colonies Speech made by the president. He was going to be in front of all of the Quorum, with many of the fat cats of the federal government in attendance. It had happened every year, and lately had become a political measuring tool to see what the administration had accomplished and what they hadn't accomplished.

Needless to say Laura knew Adar was going to be flaunting the greatest accomplishment of the Colonies, the utter destruction of their long-time foes, the Cylons. But she knew that he also had another lack of accomplishment to answer for now, the loss of contact with Earth. Although he was quite capable of turning that around on the Quorum, whose representative had caused the incident and was rightly punished yet avoided jail-time much to the ire of the executive branch.

The Quorum and the Executive Branch were still having pissing contests in government hearings, media firestorms, and information just kept coming out. Thankfully dealing with that type idiocy was not what Laura needed to do. Instead she was in the more politically sensitive arena of dealing, predominantly, with teachers unions and jockeying for funds with such competitors as social security, numerous civilian intelligence and anti-terror agencies, and finally the military which was still the biggest single recipient of money in the Colonies.

Roslin had been incredibly perplexed at the fact the military's budget hadn't been curtailed at the close of the now named Second Cylon War. They'd of course needed the funds to replace and repair dozens of large warships that had been destroyed or badly damaged in the six-months-long war. The war had been won within a few hours, but it wasn't over by any means. Hundreds of thousands if not millions of Centurions remained firmly entrenched on a dozen planets that had been colonized by the Colonials before the first war and had to be dug out and destroyed fortress by fortress, knocking out their factories, shipyards, mines, hangars, and control facilities. The Marines and Army were sent in, invading these planets one by one, using heavy weapons ranging from their sixty ton Mjolnir Main Battle Tanks to their heavy one hundred sixty millimeter howitzers and Hail Storm Multiple Launch Rocket System. They'd also found themselves totally emptying another powerful weapon in their arsenals. Their Marinestars had utterly depleted their Apollo Orbital Kinetic Energy Weapons within the first month as they'd annihilated extremely dug in Cylon positions with complete impunity aside from the few Raiders that a couple planets were found to have been producing.

Thousands of casualties had seen planets inhabited by hundreds of thousands of Colonial citizens returned to their rightful owners. Only a few Cylon warships had managed to put up any resistance once their main fleets had been wiped out in a decisive and surprising string of victories that had lasted the better part of the first week. The Fleet itself hadn't been anticipating such a one-sided victory, and its own strategic contingencies didn't even account for it. This led to a slight lull between the great fleet battles and the planetary invasions which lasted the rest of the war and ended with a final climactic ground battle that had seen the destruction of a massive underground Cylon citadel and ten thousand casualties among the Marines and Army troopers sent down to finish them off after a powerful orbital bombardment. And once that battle had been finished it was only a matter of mopping up handfuls of Centurions in small outposts scattered about and were dealt with quite easily with Viper missile strikes and at maximum a company of troops with a couple armored vehicles.

The war had been, in comparison to the First Cylon War, a total and decisive victory. And with its close came a real issue that was still festering to the present day: what to do with this massive bureaucracy and spending toilet that was the Colonial Armed Forces. Many thought that there was no longer a need for such a massive and complex military without a clear and present danger for it to face. Yet the military lived on, and much to the surprise of many, grew quite a bit. The final ships of the Zeus class Warstars had finally been completed and deployed along with an even larger and more advanced fleet of escorting Battlestars now brought up to the advanced refit standards of the Pegasus Class and Valkyrie II Class Battlestars. The cruisers and destroyers were by now mostly replaced with their own refit packages and were also more numerous than at any point in Colonial history.

And Roslin, as a senior department head, knew exactly why. Earth was still out there and she knew that they might still be somewhat pissed off with their cousins for the stupidity exhibited on the meeting satellite. Their fleet was a wild card, no one really knew what it was capable of, and the Fleet was well known for being paranoid and was still looking to get any edge they could. And they really couldn't say why, but after their massive victory no one really wanted to question the saviors of the Colonies.

"Madam Secretary," Roslin's ever faithful assistant, Billy, said on her desk intercom.

"Yes Billy," she replied pleasantly.

"Dr. Howard has arrived as scheduled."

"Oh good, please send him in, and can you have some refreshments brought up as well?" Laura asked.

"You're usual ma'am?" Billy asked.

"Of course Billy, you know me too well."

"Yes ma'am."

After a few seconds the door opened and one of Laura's past friends arrived with a folder tucked under his arm. He was an older man, with decades of experience as a university president. He was currently looking to utilize that experience to help reestablish a functioning system of schools for the reclaimed territories currently being colonized for the same reasons as they'd been originally colonized. A dozen new planets and tens of thousands if not several hundred thousand people would need a lot of infrastructure, much of which was still intact. But another thing, and for Roslin this was her job, was the fact their children would need good schools, community colleges, and eventually private and public universities.

"Madam Secretary," the old professor of sociology said to her.

"Doctor I've been in this job for three terms and I still haven't gotten you to call me Laura."

"I know, but I'm a man of proper behavior."

"I remember, have a seat, please," Laura with a smile, gesturing him to the couch that was against the wall of her office with a coffee table in front of it.

"Now, shall we get to business?" he said opening his briefcase and withdrawing the proper papers.

"Of course," Laura smiled as Billy opened the door to let a steward in carrying a tray with a pitcher of iced green Energy Fruit Juice, an imported all-natural energy drink from Tauron that was well used by people who didn't like coffee but wanted the same effects. The tray was set down on an end table as the steward poured a glass and offered it to Roslin, "Thank you."

"Doctor would you like a glass?" the man asked politely.

"Oh no, but thank you for the offer."

"Very well sir," the man replied with classic tact and then walked out.

"I have to say you've got it pretty good here don't you?"

"Sometimes a bit too good," Laura shrugged after taking a sip of the tingling sweet drink.

"Well, there's always a place back at academia once you're done here," Dr. Howard chuckled as he spread out some of the papers on the table by their categories of concern.

"Now what have we here? Demographic projections?" she said with curiosity picking up one of the papers.

"No actual demographics of the catalogued volunteers that are moving to the new colonies. There's a lot of children and young adults among them. More than I'd bet you'd expected."

"Far more," Laura said, seeing the stats and her eyebrows perking up in real surprise, "My people had initially estimated a much lower figure."

"Well that's the government for you. Long on reports and short of facts."

"Isn't that the truth?"

"Well anyway, with all these kids we're gonna need quite a bit more people and facilities if we're to make sure that the education systems on these planets is up to par."

"How many more? And on which planets?"

"At least two hundred primary school teachers and as many as three hundred secondary school teachers and coaches. That was another thing. Your people didn't make allowances for athletic or physical education facilities or staff."

"No? Well then, we're very short of other things it would seem."

"Is the will to stay here one of them?" Dr. Howard poked with a smile.

"It's getting there, Gods know I'd like nothing better than to get back into a classroom," she said with a shake of her head, "That's where a teacher belongs. But I only have a few more months before Adar's term is up and he can choose a replacement. I'm gonna finish this task. We're gonna make sure these kids have the same chances at a first class education as their cousins here on the homeworlds."

"Fair enough. I'll keep a spot saved for you."

"You'd better," Laura said, "I'm your boss after all."

Location: Unknown Planet, Colonial Basecamp

Night had begun to fall incredibly quickly, and as per regulations the whole team was boarded up in the large basecamp with a constant patrol going at all times and one of their troops in a tree-stand twenty feet up in one of the pine trees that were smack in the middle of camp with some heat vision goggles to keep an eye out from up high. At the moment the team sniper was up on its square platform that was actually two pieces bolted together and nailed into place with large steel pipes teeth that dug into it.

Sergeant Warren hadn't been up there long before he started getting restless. He'd been there when the biologists had gone out on a scouting mission to find some samples and catch some local critters on camera for further study. He hadn't gotten a chance to shoot anything, but was assured that he would be the trigger man tomorrow when they decided to go after some live specimens with a tranquilizer. But he was most worried about the very large and very human-looking track that they'd found.

He was a native of Picon, and lived in the remote backwoods all his life, living off the land and becoming an adept hunter. But he'd never seen anything like what they'd encountered today. From the new species of deer, squirrel, rabbit, bugs, birds, and plants he'd been quite enamored with it all. However these creatures were at least like animals he'd known well back home. Whatever creature that had made that track was unlike anything he had ever seen. And the biologists themselves were quite shaken up as well, which didn't put him at ease. But being back at camp, and better yet up high where he was able to be alone with his trusty semi-automatic sniper rifle in his hands put him at a much calmer state.

As he continued on a cyclical path on his perched hide he could hear someone coming up the rope ladder to join him. He looked over the side to see the figure of Dr. Beverly, the team's priest and translator. The older man was slightly struggling, but made it all the way and pulled himself up onto the high platform with a last minute tug from Warren.

"Ah thank you my lad," the man said with a smile.

"Whatcha doin' up here Doc?" the sniper asked as Dr. Beverly leaned back against the tree.

"Well you seemed like you could use the company and I, as you can see could use the exercise."

"Yeah, it does get boring up here."

"It has been the same way with me as well, not much in the way of translating to be done out here."

"Ain't that the truth. The only thing out there is critters, trees, and desert."

"And one creature in particular I would dare say has our esteemed colleagues up in arms," Dr. Beverly said with a chuckle, "It reminds me of a time when I was on Gemenon, on an archaeological expedition looking for the Ark of Gemenon. We were out in the high desert, much like this area as a matter of fact, and we encountered the strangest thing."

"Was it a giant track?" Warren asked as he looked around, continuing his overwatch.

"Oh heavens no, that desert was much too barren to support anything larger than wild dogs. But we did encounter a curious old hermit who spoke of a large hairy beast that had been terrorizing his mushrooms."

"Mushrooms?" Warren scoffed.

"As I said my boy he was quite a curious individual. But anyway, we thought that he was crazy, until he gave our party a parting warning. He said that if we hear screams or banging in the forests not to go near it or the Wildman would kill us."

"Wildman? I've heard of that, supposed to be an urban legend ain't it?"

"Oh I'm no sure, we camped at a commonly used campsite high in the mountains where we could begin looking for the object of our quest. We had a fire, we talked, we ate, and went to bed. And that's when it started."

"Oh I gotta hear this."

"I was awoken by a loud banging noise, like a large branch being knocked against the trunk of a tree. I grabbed a flashlight, and looked out of my tent. The knocking had stopped and after looking around I thought it might have been this hermit trying to scare us off. And then…"

But before Dr. Beverly could continue his story an echoing scream reached the ears of the entire camp. Beverly's mouth dropped instantly upon hearing it, Warren's military and hunting instincts kicked in, and brought his goggles to his eyes and started scanning.

"It can't be," Dr. Beverly whispered, standing up and looked out and held his cane in his hand.

"Don't tell me," Warren groaned.

"Yes my boy that is exactly what came next. An inhuman roar, it scared us so badly we left camp in our trucks and didn't go back."

"Well we ain't gonna do that Doc," Warren said as the camp now started to stir as the biologists came running out of their tent, camera and sound recorder in hand.

"I'm grateful for that, this time I have this," Beverly said, pulling his pistol from its holster.

"Put it away Doc, I'll hit it with before it comes within your range."

"Oh yes, right," he responded, putting his weapon back in place and then an idea struck him, "Let me try something."

He took his wooden cane and stepped to the edge of the platform and then whacked his cane against the tree three times. The loud bangs echoed through the night and the Colonials strained their ears to listen many of them now holding their weapons in hand, looking around with flashlights shining, searching for anything that could have made the scream that had started their hearts thumping at twice their normal paces. But after several seconds there was nothing and everyone sighed in slight relief.

"Hmm…perhaps I may have misremembered," Dr. Beverly mused.

"Maybe, it's just some other ape-like thing. Similar but not…"

As soon as Warren began to say that three loud return wooden knocking noises echoed back at the Colonial camp. It was something that made every single one of them feel chills crawl up their spines. Dr. Beverly was very much stunned and dumbfounded, and expressed it.

"Forgive the unpriest-like exclamation but what the frak is out there?"

**Sorry for the delay but I've had a bit of a rage quit moment with the previous version of this one. I'd had about five thousand words done of the last one but my computer did a restart for my anti-virus software and it didn't save. So I said fuck it and took a hiatus and came back a bit later. Now I'm working on Chapter 2 for the Earth half. **

**Next Chapter Preview: Things get wild on the Colonials first mission offworld, and the Cylons aren't gone, so let's find out what they're up to.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Location: For Jacob Carter Training Reserve, Air Base Alpha Three

Date: February 7, 2025

Time: 0730 Zulu

The screaming of the engines of an F/A-302B Banshee were among the most intoxicating noises that one could hear when on Terra Nova. By now there was an almost constant drone of these extremely versatile craft. The trainees were now taking their first solo flights in these state of the art aircraft. To even get this far they'd had to pass basic flight training first in propeller driven training aircraft back on Earth, then in two seater training aircraft that were basically the original incarnation of the Banshee that was now a dedicated EDF training aircraft designed and produced for that purpose. But the first classes of pilots had gotten through the crucible of training, lectures, exams, and everything in between with a surprising attrition rate of only fifty percent dropping out. A huge factor was that the vast majority of them had been active duty pilots or had already been in flight school within their own respective national air forces.

This was a massive disparity when you compare the ratio of civilian-to-military in the rest of the EDF. The EDF's ground forces were about half and half civilian and military, give or take. However the numbers that they had started with were closer to three civilians volunteering to every volunteer with previous military experience. But these dropouts were however encouraged to work on what caused them to drop out and try again, as a planetary defense force could always use every volunteer it could get its hands on. After all there was still a need for crews for the fleet, more combat troops, more pilots, more officers, and everything in between. In fact well over three quarters of Earth's fleet was sitting empty in vast orbital shipyards, and of the quarter left only a handful of those ships were active, with the rest of them still training their crews on their relatively complex systems. These were the closest of the branches to be ready for activation with only another week or so left until the ships themselves were deemed semi-operational with the ground forces being behind them by a couple weeks and the pilots by a month. And it was the pilots that were the crucial factor.

It would be the pilots that would fly the swarms of attack fighters and gunships into the teeth of any foe. It would be the pilots that would land Earth's future armies on remote hostile worlds and support them with airstrikes from the Banshees, Mohican Gunships, Comanche Attack Helicopters, and Redtail Utility Helicopters. The helicopter pilots were off in their own training, having been singled out for this specific training back on Earth. But the craft every pilot wanted to fly was the F/A-302B Banshee, which was happening for the first time.

And for General Mitchell this was a momentous day, as his pilots, having mastered flying the Banshees and having their solo flights and basic weapons training several weeks ago it was time for combat training, and that meant dogfighting, and to start out Mitchell himself wanted the first batch of fliers to face him. So for his first opponent the pilot who'd drawn the long straw was Patricia "Midas" Sinclair, who was a previously in training naval aviator and fancied herself the best pilot that had ever lived. To be fair, she hadn't met anyone who she hadn't beaten in simulations aside from her own instructors. But today was what every pilot lived for, it was time to prove what they were able to do while everyone watched from the squadron briefing rooms that were now packed with every pilot not busy watching one of their own face someone who was effectively a legend throughout the base.

"Nugget One this is tower, you are clear for takeoff, good hunting,"

"Copy that tower, Nugget One taking off," the words almost stung they were so patronizing as Patricia smoothly pushed the throttle forward.

She felt very little as her Banshee's inertial dampeners responded to the acceleration of her fighter's twin engines. The massive airbase flew by in her peripheral vision as the aircraft came off the ground and she pushed her throttle all the way forward and pulled the stick back and began to climb and climb quickly to get to her operating altitude, preferably way, way above the hard deck, or the minimum safe altitude. The minimum altitude was six thousand feet, and twenty miles north of base, Patricia, or Pat as her closest comrades knew her as, planned on getting to fifty thousand feet before she entered the operating area where she knew the General in another Banshee was waiting, somewhere in the thick towering clouds.

"Nugget One to control, radio check," Pat said as the Banshee rolled lazily, allowing her to do a quick controls response check.

"Nugget One, this is control, we read you."

"Very well control, Nugget One proceeding to angels five zero," she said as she started to level out once she had reached forty thousand feet but kept on a climbing turn making her way to the east edge of the combat zone.

"Copy Nugget One, new orders are to proceed to angels six zero, aggressor aircraft is waiting in the combat zone. Angels five five, thirty miles and circling," the voice of one of the also in-training air controllers echoed in her sealed helmet's speakers.

"Copy control Nugget One has sensor acquisition, climbing to angels six zero."

Pat saw the classic red diamond of a confirmed hostile aircraft show up on her HUD with the abbreviated three characters denoting it as a fellow three oh two. She cranked her engines to send her fighter right over the sound barrier with an exhilarating rumble that she felt ripple through the aircraft. She saw the demarcation line on her HUD approaching her rapidly, and as that happened she checked her weapons, which were all just dummies meant to simulate weight and weren't able to physically launch. Seeing that everything was green and ready she looked up to see the demarcation line disappear from her line of sight and passed into the combat zone.

"We're on!" she said with glee and gripped the stick with a bit more force as she started closing with her opponent.

"Bogey is turning into you Nugget One, closing fast."

She gave a quick acknowledgement to the controller, not paying it any mind now that she could see that for herself. The hostile Banshee came screaming in at her, but not supersonic. At mach one point eight she knew she was going to pass him very quickly and would need her reaction to be exceptionally fast if she were to get on his tail. But first she tried for a missile lock, she saw the pipper lining up on her foe and but it wouldn't lock. They were closing too fast so she prepared for a very snappy maneuver to come back around.

And then they passed, a blot of jet black snapped by her on her left side, and even before they'd passed Pat had rolled left ninety degrees and then yanked the stick back hard after cutting to one fourth power. Her aircraft skidded in the air, buffeted by the friction of so much air colliding with the massive flying wing body of the aircraft. It was in effect a Pugachev's Cobra except better. By rolling onto her side Pat was able to keep the stick back as both the ailerons and the nose mounted thrusters spun the Banshee around until it was nearly at a complete stop. But stalling was no issue as Pat pushed her throttle back to accelerate back at General Mitchell.

But there was one problem, General Mitchell hadn't been nearly as fast going into the attack as Pat had, and was already bearing down on her from above after performing a half cobra to cut airspeed and rolled over the top coming right at her.

"Oh shit!" Pat screamed, as was usual of her when she was in the cockpit, seeing her quarry was out for blood.

She pitched left hard, almost pivoting on the spot, causing Mitchell to overshoot. But he was still in control, and the speed and ferocity of Pat's maneuver ended up putting her on the defensive. She dove for airspeed as Mitchell looped right, sliding in on her six o'clock.

"Midas defensive!" she declared on instinct, as was procedure to alert friendly fighters that she was in trouble. But it was no good, but instinct was instinct.

She tossed her aircraft into a tight right turn as she tried keeping from getting locked on, performing a rolling scissors trying to get Mitchell off her tail as soon as she knew what had happened. In fact she reacted before Mitchell could get into a solid position on her six and about overshot her. To counter he too rolled over the top, and had to fight back the startle that he got as he flew through a cloud of flares launched from Pat's Banshee in a good second long stream. The two Banshees plummeted in air speed, and their twisting maneuvers landed them canopy to canopy, barely thirty feet away from one another as they descended downwards.

"Enough of this!" Pat growled, and once more hit her course thrusters and yanked back on the stick as her Banshee got directly above her opponent's, "Fox four!"

As she did this she squeezed the trigger on her quadruple simulated rail guns. She'd always bragged how she was going to try this and make it work but here, the simulated rounds that went downrange on her HUD weren't exactly proving her right. The burst missed but the alert of the simulated fire and blanks going off in the Banshee's guns got Mitchell's attention if it wasn't there already. And now, she was on his tail, and the two of them began to twist and turn, spiraling amongst the clouds. Mitchell popped off several stings of flares, rolling around a tall cumulonimbus cloud bank. But the trainee pilot hung on to her commanding general's tail like a tick, matching him move for move, but the pipper just wouldn't get to the right place. So she switched to short ranged Sidewinders, and tried pulling back to get enough space to launch safely. But to do that she was going to need to lose air speed.

However Mitchell knew that too and was going to get her to overshoot so he could get a shot off. So he continued his erratic maneuvers and then took a sharp right turn and banked back left in the aerial equivalent of a juke and simply dove headfirst into the clouds. Pat followed, being as aggressive as she was, and to her shock found herself coming out of the clouds a second later with nothing in front of her.

"Dammit, where'd he go?" Pat gasped out loud, but it was more to herself and didn't broadcast it.

She knew that the General was good, and knew that he would most definitely try to slip in a shot at her in this moment of confusion. So she pitched up, rolling as she hit the throttle to look around, seeing nothing. As her Banshee continued to climb she continued her steady roll, wrenching her neck side to side, desperate for any sign of her foe. What he'd done to elude her in that cloud she didn't know, but she wasn't going to get pounced on again. But suddenly her speakers lit up with the warning alert for a missile lock on her aircraft and taking a sudden evasive maneuver Pat hit her thrusters again, going completely belly-up, stopping her climb instantly, and lit off a string of flares. Continuing her move she dove, turning into the direction that the missile had come from. On her HUD she saw the simulated digital missile streak out from above, and now took her most extreme maneuver yet to keep the digital weapon from taking her down.

She hit her centerline engine, and felt the extreme acceleration send her Banshee flying well past the sound barrier. The missile wasn't fast or maneuverable enough to keep its track on the Banshee and zipped away, a clean miss. Continuing her acceleration Pat climbed to sixty thousand feet, and leveled out, cutting out the big jet and rolled onto her back to look below to find where Mitchell was. But another missile lock sounded off in her headset and she knew by this one that the missile was already airborne, she saw, thanks to her HUD, it was coming from below and behind her. She tried popping off flares and chaff, hoping that whichever type of missile it was wouldn't get through her countermeasures.

But her headset told her a different story. A simulated explosion and a subsequent message etched itself onto her HUD: MISSILE STRIKE, KIA.

"No! Dammit!" she screamed, throwing her head back against the seat. She'd lost in her first ever dogfight, and she now knew she'd never live it down after being so confident in being able to win against General Mitchell.

"Nugget One return to base," the voice of a somewhat disappointed controller said over the comms as another voice came over.

"Not bad Nugget One, better luck next time."

It was General Mitchell himself saying that to her as he came up parallel to her Banshee, looking out from his own aircraft.

"Thank you sir," she said, not really having anything else to say. She wanted to say, 'Next time your ass is grass' but you don't trash talk your commanding officer after getting beaten by him.

"Alright then, this won't be the last time we tangle so don't worry, you'll have another shot at it."

With that Mitchell banked left as Nugget Two lifted off to meet the next aggressor aircraft flown by their usual combat instructor. She kept a lid on her own disappointment for the rest of the flight, going through the usual routine of landing her aircraft like she had done without flaw many times before. As usual she caught the second tail hook upon landing, and was quickly taxied back to her fighter's new parking spot on a block of tarmac underneath a tall steel open hangar lined up in several rows of the same buildings with aircraft underneath each one. They were just roofs with four concrete posts and a steel roof big enough for a single Banshee and there were a several hundred of them in just this one air base.

They were lined up row after row, near the maintenance hangars where there were several large elevators that would be able to take these aircraft into the deep fortified bunkers where new or inactive Banshees were kept by the thousands. Nearby were ready rooms where a squadron's worth of pilots were usually kept at standby. But few pilots aside from the trainees and their instructors were available and so only a handful of pilots were really able to take to the sky to meet a threat. But with the hundreds of defensive weapons dug in and scattered around the massive base and around the civilian city there was enough firepower to defend the colony. But from what the briefings and course work here had taught them, there was no single civilization left that could attack Terra Nova, much less the exponentially better protected fortress that was now Earth.

"How'd you do Midas?" the crew chief for their squadron asked as she opened the canopy as her engines shut down and the crew got to work and took off the life support connections.

"He's good," Pat growled, popping the seal of her helmet and yanked it off.

"The General got you huh?"

"What was your first clue Chief?" she responded after straightening out her blonde ponytail.

As she grumbled to herself, much to the ground crew's amusement, they began to secure the aircraft after it had shut down. One of them began helping her out of the cockpit as a second man ran a cable into the cockpit and plugged it in behind her seat. It was a data bank that would give the engineers an idea of what the fighter did in a mechanical sense. But it also told the instructors what she had done in the course of the dogfight. She felt that she had done everything possible, but then again she was facing someone with far more experience than she did.

"Well how did our great golden girl do?" one of her fellow trainees said with no small amount of smugness as several of them were waiting outside of the squadron ready building for their section.

"You know exactly how it went!" she growled at them yanking open the door.

"It was the fucking General, what'd you expect PMS?" another one of the other pilot trainees said using her full initials, which included her call sign which was chosen on purpose.

"Say that again and you won't get off the ground," Pat growled to him as she plopped down on a cushioned seat.

"What happened, take us through it," one of her friends asked.

"You've all seen it. I don't wanna talk about it."

"Alright fair enough, something tells me we'll all get beaten several times in the next month or two."

Pat grunted with a smirk, knowing she wouldn't lose to any of them. And she sure as hell wasn't going to lose to General Mitchell again.

Location: Earth Defense Research Division Corps, Terra Nova

"Preparing for Module Construction," the voice of one of the engineers in this particular lab control room called out, tapping in the command codes.

"All parameters are in the green," another engineer called out.

"Execute."

Lieutenant General Samantha Carter knew this was going to work, they'd done it several times in the past few months, and had gotten a number of new Earth-made ZPM's out of this one room and its massive reinforced cylinders which had a blue conical crystal inside that had been made of the same stuff as the original ZPM's.

The exact science was known to only a few, and understood by even fewer. But there only needed to be a few in order to crank out these powerful, in effect, batteries that were meant for use within the planet-bound defensive mechanisms ranging from shield generators to anti-orbital energy beam weapons copied from the Ancients' weapons satellites in the Pegasus galaxy.

But there were always uses to be found for these devices, and many different projects and devices were being designed with an EM-ZPM Mark I in mind. There were military projects on Earth that would have wanted a ZPM for a planetary shield exponentially more powerful than anything the Ancients had ever created. There were also civilian projects that wanted to create new ships, new environmental terraforming devices to "stop climate change" being one idea that had gone the way of the Death Star idea that a popular application with over a million signatures had put on Carter's desk, a cabinet she wanted to label as "Stupid".

However it wasn't like Carter was going on to work a dozen projects like she one was able to as a Colonel when their resources were just a fraction of what they had today. And to be honest she missed that a lot. Much of her time was spent on desk duty, going over, clearing, or denying new research projects and tests for new weapons, equipment, and devices for not only the military field but the civilian field. But that didn't stop her from starting her own projects, one of them being the incredibly successful subspace communications devices that linked Earth to Terra Nova allowing every aspect of TV and the internet to flow between the two planets. It was with this device that quite a bit of money was being made which was helping to pay the nearly one million men and women of the EDF. But that had been mere child's play for her, and she'd quickly made her way to a very big, and very complex new project.

This new project was to dig up the old Pioneer Class Mobile Colony designs and build on the foundation and the idea of a self-sufficient and mobile colony like the Ancients' city-ships. But the Earth-made versions were going be several times the size of Atlantis, with everything built into it that it would need. It was called Project Noah's Ark and was still in its planning and design stages with several weeks to go before it was even able to have a scale model built for testing purposes. Their to-do-list was still rather enormous, with tasks including designing the city's plumbing, water purification systems, electrical feeds, power routers and breakers, and the overall structural integrity which would allow it hold, sustain, and allow a massive amount of trinium-carbon-steel alloy, concrete, water, soil, people, and every little thing that a city of a planned size exceeding a quarter of a million with all walks of life being included. And that included a large ring of farm land and suburbs which was the cause of a lot of headaches due to the sheer size of these additions.

So something like this was easily keeping Carter's mind occupied. The sheer scale of engineering this task was taking on was unlike anything Earth had done before. It was bigger than even the Wraith Hive Ships, and had to accomplish a much more taxing series of jobs such as entering atmosphere in absolute control, while maintaining its shield strength over a much larger area than Atlantis did with a much bigger mass. It also needed to sustain this population the whole time, which meant farms, water supplies, a working space port, a working subspace communications device, and all the comforts of home. Yet all this needed to be able to protect itself. That meant a massive defensive network of railguns and missile launchers was built into the design. But the most important thing built into this was the cloaking system that was able to function in tandem with their shield generators.

However, none of this was really ready yet, and Carter didn't have much else to do aside from the usual day-to-day work. But she had been able to start one thing that no one really suspected. Her and General Jack O'Neill had started seeing one another after hours for the past year, and to say the least it was a bit of a no-no. Fraternization protocols were the same in the EDF as they were in most major militaries, which meant that dating between officers and enlisted within units, and with a superior officer was looked down upon with few exceptions made. Theirs was not one that would normally be construed as an exception. She was CO of the Research and Development, and he was the overall commanding officer of the entire EDF.

One could make the argument that there was another reason for her to be with Jack, such as future promotion to overall commander herself. This was the problem they faced, and had to hide it. She had to be careful with each facial movement she showed whenever the two of them met on the job, and he or she was usually somewhere together having so much overlap in terms of areas of responsibility. So it was no surprise when the steel door into the lab hissed open and there was O'Neill, his own aide in tow.

"General sir," Carter said, snapping off a salute to him as he entered. She caught a quick tug on the corner of his lips, a smile pulling its way forward.

"Carter, another batch of ZPM's?" O'Neill asked, peeking in and taking in the controlled process.

"Yes sir, three more. It'll be enough to power three new Battle Carriers."

"Or a Super Carrier," O'Neill suggested slightly.

He'd been doing little things like this for several weeks now, ever since the fleet had finally started taking shape and the BCV-308 Enterprise Class Battle Carriers had started stacking up in numbers. So naturally he was now wanting a ship even bigger than the mainstay of Earth's battle fleet, of which Earth had thirty of them. So for the past few weeks he'd been hinting and suggesting, even in bed, at the prospect of a flagship several times the size of the Battle Carriers. Of course the prospect of such a ship intrigued her, but she personally didn't believe that such vessels were even needed. Nothing that Earth had ever encountered, save the Asgard's O'Neill class Battleships and the Wraith Super-Hive could stand toe-to-toe with even their Battlecruisers, much less ships nearly five times their size.

"Sir we've got the designs in the making but the fleet hasn't expressed any interest in needing such a ship."

"Well I'm expressing interest, doesn't that matter?"

"Yes sir it does matter. You're the overall commanding officer."

Carter gave him a classic look out of the corner of her eyes that said "Really, you're pulling rank?"

"Ma'am, ZPM power-up sequences are complete," Carter's technicians alerted her, making certain that she was paying attention to the process at hand.

"Very well, move them to the test and stabilization stage. As usual if there's any spike in power kill it and alert me. Sir, would you like to talk in my office?"

"Lead the way Carter," O'Neill smiled, stepping aside and offering her the lead out of the secure lab.

The two of them, with their aides right behind them, walked out into a large, tall hallway with a handful of technicians, engineers, and every fifty feet was a guard in full combat armor with their rifles slung over their shoulders. This facility was separated from the other underground facilities of the EDF due to its classified nature and the fact it was on its own separate island with a single monorail tunnel connecting it to the rest of the EDF's bases. A huge number of labs, testing areas, offices, independent power generators, computer cores, and as experience had taught, damage control facilities were built into this underground maze. The halls themselves were built differently than those of the old SGC on Earth, being bigger overall with screens feeding a live feed of the outside from a wide variety of locations from cameras placed around their tropical island that acted like windows. The floors weren't the bland concrete gray, but were a bright blue carpet or patterned tiles with painted walls with stripes on them indicating what floor and what section of the base someone was in. The ceiling was sectioned off with the foam-like panels hiding the numerous pipes, power mains, and comms cables that would have been an eye sore and a constant reminder that these people were several hundred beneath solid granite, concrete, and trinium.

Carter soon found O'Neill at her side, and felt the usual need to move in close, but knowing that their aides were literally a few steps away she controlled herself. O'Neill well understood their situation, being a career soldier himself. So he decided on making small talk.

"The first of the pilots had their first dogfights today."

"I saw one furball earlier on my way out of the house. It was quite impressive watching those Banshees maneuvering like that," Carter noted, "Wasn't Cam going to be flying aggressor today?"

"He did, and went undefeated today. Although he did say he came close to losing a few but a lot of his instructors ended up losing. So it's a good sign our pilots are getting there."

"What about the ground troops?" Carter asked, "I heard you observed a war game last night. How'd they do?"

"Not too bad, although I'm not certain it's a good or bad sign that seventy percent of all troops involved were casualties of some kind."

"Well if the steroids that are seeded through the troops' food and water is working I'm not complaining. No adverse effects have been reported I hope?" Carter asked, referring to a family of biologically engineered foods that were seeded with a brand new steroid that allowed for a much improved rebuilding of muscle tissue to aid in recovery from the incredibly tough training that the EDF's troops were going through.

These steroids were controversial for certain, but the EDF made certain every man and woman was told what it was that they were going to be taking. There was always the concern that the troops would start to become addicted to the stuff, or some physical or mental altering would occur that wouldn't serve the military's purpose. But thus far several different and extended periods of weaning the troops off of the steroids had seen nothing pop up that was to be worried about. So the borderline special operations intensity training continued to run its course.

"Nothing to be worried about Carter, no one has had a bad medical report and the results have been according to expectations. In fact we could deploy these troops tomorrow if we had to and we'd wind up winning against all comers."

"Well I can't tell you otherwise," Carter replied, "There's no single entity that we've encountered that can face us in an even fight and have a chance at winning. Or that we've met thus far."

"It's a big galaxy Carter, we've still got what? Two, three hundred thousand planets that we can still explore?"

"Probably more sir, and we haven't met several advanced species we know exist. The Furlings are one species in particular we haven't come into contact with. There's also the species I encountered when the Prometheus was attacked, the people who created that weather control device are another."

"I know, I know," O'Neill said, "And that's why we've got all these ships, weapons, and equipment."

"It's also to deal with the Lucians, the Wraith, and act as a deterrent against any other entity that we know poses a danger like pirates, rogue semi-advanced humans, or anyone we may have pissed off. Like the Colonials from a few years ago for instance."

"Or their Cylon buddies," O'Neill responded, "Although the Colonials seemed to have kicked their ass without much trouble and have pretty much settled in where they are."

"No word on what they've been doing?"

"We're keeping a subspace sensor nearby to keep an eye on them. They've been pretty quiet lately, nothing really to worry about and it's been several years I think we can assume that they've cooled their jets about us."

"Needless to say sir they were an interesting find, a powerful fleet and an interplanetary sphere, it's a wonder they made it that far into their development."

"Without getting wiped out by the Gou'ald?"

"Or the Ori, or the Replicators for that matter. It is quite remarkable how isolated they had ben. It makes me wonder what else is out there."

"You miss SG-1 don't you?" O'Neill asked sensing what she was getting at.

"Yes sir, things were just so much simpler then. It was also more challenging and we had the constant underdog factor on our side. But now we're the big dogs of this galaxy, and no one we know of can really do a thing to threaten us."

"I'm bored too, as bad as it sounds I wish something would just happen already."

Location: Stargate Command, Terra Nova

The team was getting together in full for the first time today, and that was worrying for Colonel O'Neill. He hadn't met any of the civilians in person quite yet, and neither had his all-military portion of the team. But here they were at the large rec room made especially for SG-1, in its own separate office complex.

The new SGC facility was simply massive and nothing about it had been skimped out on. Each team had its own area where its scientists could work in peace within close proximity to their other team mates, helping to aide in the process of creating the sense of comradery that all of the SG Teams needed. Their area was the complete package, a locker room for them complete with showers and a large bathroom, offices for everyone to work, although the offices for the military component were mostly a place for privacy and writing up reports. There was a briefing room in the middle surrounded by the offices for obvious reasons with a projector screen and dry erase board, and comfortable auditorium style seats. They shared a gym with SG Teams Two, Three, and Four that was just as complete with all manner of equipment and even had a basketball court and pool. And for just chilling out the team had its own rec room with several TV's, a few old style arcade games, a kitchenette, a few tables and comfortable couches. And even this wasn't skimped upon, with an Xbox One, Playstation 3, Netflix, and dozens of movies, games, and TV shows to choose from. There were also numerous labs for each scientific specialist to work in complete peace with state of the art equipment right at their fingertips. Hell they even had two secretaries, one civilian and one military, to see to the usual clerical paperwork. The only thing that these SG Team sections didn't have was an armory, for obvious reasons.

The entire team was now in their new briefing room, sitting in their own chairs, talking with one another, meeting and exchanging little tid bits of small talk. The briefing room was separated into two three by three sections of seats built on an incline. A few stairs in the middle let everyone ascend their way upwards without having to climb over each other. And standing at the lead was supposed to be Colonel O'Neill and Brenda Jackson, the two sub-team leaders, but O'Neill was the overall commander.

Although at the moment the two of them weren't in the briefing room, themselves finishing a briefing with General Landry going over the mission set forth for the planet their first outing had them going to. That left Major Steven Blanton in charge, the team's XO and muscle head, who had joined the SGC a month before the program had been declassified. He was a former SEAL, with years of experience and a Navy boxing championship under his belt. He was an intimidating man, chosen by O'Neill for partly that reason but also his unique and varied skillset when it came to deep strike missions.

His civilian counterpart was Dr. Bruce Walt, their cultural expert and translator. He'd been in the SGC for quite some time, having joined a few months after Anubis's failed invasion and acted as a desk jockey going over translations and writing reports on different civilizations. But now he was, for the first time, able to get out into the field, having been on a workout regimen to get into shape enough to be cleared for SG-Team duty. Although he wasn't unlike the others on the team and was barely cleared. And he himself had an intriguing oddity, he spoke with a British accent, yet he himself was an American citizen. So O'Neill was definitely going have a fit when he heard him speak.

"So how long are we gonna be gone?" one of the civilians, their technological expert, Dr. Michael Underwood, asked.

He was a brilliant man, but had a bit of a childish streak in him. He was quite disorganized, and he routinely made a mess, being incredibly wrapped up in either his work or games or movies. The man was the exact opposite of O'Neill's pick for tech expert, Captain Jennifer Hailey, the same Hailey who'd caught Carter's attention a long time ago. She'd continued her streak of brilliance and tactical professionalism on several SG-Teams, transferring back and forth, mostly due to the team leaders not liking her rather snobbish attitude. But Colonel O'Neill knew he'd be able to rein in the near insubordinate officer.

"A few days, maybe a week. It depends on what we find my dear Michael," Dr. Walt responded.

"What could we possibly find out there that we haven't already encountered?"

"Please don't ask that," Hailey responded, not bothering to look up from her work tablet where she was working on some research project that she refused to talk about, lest the time spent talking about it and explaining it would fall into time spent not working.

"She's right, you can never truly know what we can encounter, a planet's big enough, but an entire star system is even bigger, and a galaxy, infinitely times larger and diverse," Major Blanton responded calmly.

"Hmph, infinitely," Hailey smirked, catching Blanton's attention.

"What was that Captain?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's impossible for any solid piece of matter to be infinitely anything."

"Well technically," Dr. Underwood's own assistant, Dr. Ruby Ellis, piped up.

"Girl, please don't start again, it is too early for your science crap," Lieutenant Reese Baker, a long-time Air Force Pararescue operator, replied rubbing his head, knowing what might happen next.

Hailey just grunted lowly, retraining her attention on her work as the door into SG-1's briefing room opened and the two senior members of the team walked in. At the entrance of their CO the military members stood up to attention, including Hailey of course. Not even she was able to be insubordinate all the time.

"Ah, Brenda, your timing is impeccable. And Colonel O'Neill I presume?" Dr. Walt asked, extending his hand to the CO.

"Yeah, and you are…" O'Neill asked…fishing around for a name.

"Dr. Bruce Walt, a pleasure."

"Yeah," O'Neill said, giving his XO a confused look which was responded to with a shrug.

"Go ahead and sit down everybody," Brenda said calmly, walking over to the computer that controlled the projector, "We've got a briefing to conduct."

"Why are you leading the briefing?" O'Neill asked, crossing his arms over his chest, a little taken back by the sudden takeover by Brenda.

"Oh I'm sorry, did you miss the briefing with the general? I could've swore you were there. This is an exploratory mission, which means I have lead."

"Oh here we go," Underwood whispered to himself, seeing the headbutting already starting.

"And I'm commander of this team," O'Neill responded testily.

"Overall you're commander but when it comes to my team's jobs I'm in charge. Seriously what do you really have to say anyway aside from protect the civilians?"

"Lots," O'Neill responded, "But yeah, keep an eye on the civvies. We'll split into teams once we get there."

"Sounds good, now," Brenda continued, pulling up the MALP imagery onto the projector for all to see, revealing a wet rocky landscape, "The MALP has been on station for a while now, and this planet is, from all of the data we've gotten, uninhabited. Sorry Bruce."

"Well one must take a first step right?" the man said with a humble shrug.

"Any plant or animal life Brenda?" Dr. Harold White, the team biologist, asked.

"Only a few small grasses and what might have been some small birds. Hard to tell, that's what you're there to find out. Now we'll be taking a few immune boosters as per Dr. Lawson's suggestion," Brenda said, motioning to the team medical expert, who gave her a smile, "So if you have anything medical to report at any point, no matter how small it might be, please don't hesitate to talk to her or Dr. Tew, her assistant."

"And it will also go without saying that you do not do anything stupid once we're out there, the military component is there to protect you but it makes our job damned difficult if you're putting a bulls-eye on your chest," O'Neill interrupted.

"Anyway, it's gonna be kinda cold out there and the MALP's rain gauge overflowed after twenty-four hours so choose your equipment and clothing accordingly. We're gonna be offworld for three days, supplies are already being prepared on the transport MALP's, my team, go ahead and see to your own equipment in the garage and meet back here in full gear in one hour. Dismissed," Brenda ordered, finishing out the briefing as the civilian portion of the team began to get up and head for the door.

This left the military portion of SG-1 somewhat confused. They'd been under the impression that Colonel O'Neill was in charge, and didn't get up.

"Damned civilians," O'Neill grumbled.

"Would it make you feel any better if I accidentally broke her nose sir?" Major Agnes Rosario, the third in command, piped up with no small amount of sarcasm.

"Only for a few seconds," O'Neill shrugged, "She'd find a way to twist it back on me."

A few chuckles from his team came from that.

"Alright for real now, you guys lead the civilians wherever they go. One of us goes along with them no matter what. It's dangerous out there, keep your heads on a swivel. And rules of engagement are simple, if it looks dangerous back off and fall back to base or call for support. If something or someone comes at you and you can't avoid confrontation you kill it. Understood?"

"Yes sir," the team sounded off in tandem.

"Okay then, SG-1, gear up."

**And there we are, managed to finish this one before heading off to my late night class. As usual I hope you guys enjoyed it, leave any thoughts, questions, or suggestions you might have in a review and I'll get back to you on any direct notes ASAP.**

**I read a lot of reviews that suggested doing away with the casting actors as my characters or at the least moving the casting choices to the bottom so they don't interrupt the reading flow. And I decided to do the latter suggestion, as I really like the casting thing and do challenge any other writers to do the same thing as a challenge to see how it works for them. So here's the character chart added in this chapter.**

**Lieutenant Patricia "Midas" Sinclair: Scarlett Johansson**

**Major Steven Blanton: Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson**

**Major Agnes Rosario: Michelle Rodriguez**

**Lieutenant Reese Baker: Tyrese Gibson**

**Dr. Michael Underwood: Anthony Anderson**

**Dr. Bruce Walt: David McCallum**

**Dr. Catherine Lawson: Pauley Perrette**

**Dr. Karl Tew: Chris Hemsworth**

**Dr. Harold White: Ioan Gruffudd**

**Dr. Ruby Ellis: Rachael Taylor**

**Next Chapter Preview: SG-1's off to another planet, what shall they find I wonder? And now it's time for the village idiots of the EDF to meet the students with no sense of danger in a rather dangerous jungle.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Location: Unknown Planet

Date: February 7, 2025

Time: 0800 Hours

The night was a tense one for Recon One, especially the military detail who didn't want to shut their eyes at all once they'd heard that shriek in the dead of night. A three-man patrol had gone out with night vision cameras but found nothing, only heightening apprehension at what could have been out there. And whatever it was could easily be interpreted to be very unhappy with their presence. So once that night was over the civilians wouldn't go anywhere without a military escort on watch.

But today was set to be their first truly long range exploration on this planet. Colonel Black had been somewhat nervous about going through with this long range recon mission up the mountain. But the objective of placing a special landscape time-lapse camera and atmospheric sensor equipment had been one of the big tasks for the civilian section. And it would also give them a great surrounding view of the terrain for miles around. They might even locate signs of civilization, so that was reason enough for them to risk the trek up the mountain so they could task their only UAV to the missions it was needed for. So Agent Fraser opted to lead the mission himself, with ten members of the military team, under the command of Captain Stinson, and six of his own civilian team. He'd chosen Dr. Cruz the team tech expert who'd just wanted to get out and about, Dr. Bobbie Hall, their medical assistant who was better suited to the trek than Dr. Decker was, Dr. Martinez, their assistant biologist, Dr. Hart their geology assistant, and of course they had Dr. Beverly in case they ran into someone or something that needed a diplomat's touch and lingual expert that superseded any of the rest of them.

This left the rest of the team back at base camp doing their own short range patrols with continuing scientific research. And of course one of them was always accompanied by a member or two of the military team and someone was on watch over the Ring and radio in case the team called in or Chorus contacted them or something else entirely came through the Ring. But either way, the mission was going forward for the Colonials and it would take something drastic to make them stop, especially when there were egos butting heads among the Colonials. And no two egos were bigger or more conflicting than Colonel Black and Agent Fraser.

Fraser was currently leading the way right up the somewhat steep mountain which even at their height was still covered in tall pine trees and low shrubs. He now held his submachine gun instead of a mere pistol on his thigh. His team, wearing the orange and red digital camouflage pattern that the Colonial military had picked out for the desert highlands of Gemenon and other such places, were making their way steadily up the terrain, crossing back and forth.

"Agent Fraser," Captain Stinson called out as Fraser pulled himself up a slight vertical drop, "Hold up a second."

"Can we make it quick?" Fraser asked, looking at his watch, "We need to make up ground before nightfall."

"Where exactly do you plan on putting this equipment?" the officer asked as he pulled himself up the bank and stood next to Fraser.

"The highest point we can," Fraser replied, "We'll need to have as clear a line of sight as we can."

"Well I think that might be kind of tough. Look," Stinson responded and pointed up through the trees.

"Well, I'd say that's the tallest bit of land around here wouldn't you say?"

Fraser was now referring to a tall bluff with vertical faces around it with a large forty-five degree angled hill coming up down from the mesa on top. Its approach was barren for the most part, but it was instead covered in large boulders and tall weathered pillars that the boulder field undoubtedly originated from.

"Dr. Hart," Agent Fraser called out, signaling the young, and annoyingly bubbly and energetic geology assistant to come forward, and come forward she did, hefting two large black cases in each hand without very much trouble.

"Yeah boss?" she asked, panting slightly from charging past more than half the team for about twenty meters.

"What do you make of that?" Fraser asked as he pointed out the mesa in front of them.

"Wow," the young blonde gasped quickly, "Looks like a mesa you'd find in Gemenon's low deserts. That side of it is pretty well weathered, undoubtedly by a constant and predictable wind. I'd say its face is made, mostly, of sandstone with sand and dirt filling in the cracks as boulders fall down as they're weathered bit by bit."

"I was asking if that would work for a place to put your equipment Doc," Fraser replied after letting her finish her lesson.

"Oh…yeah that'll work perfectly."

"Excellent, that's where we're going then."

With their new target location in sight Fraser led the way forward through a surprisingly thick clump of pines and pine saplings interspersed with juniper-like low lying evergreens. It was green here, with soft leaved trees looking like willows but with bleach white trunks and lowing dark green leaves draping about like large curtains and tall grasses it was clear the Colonials had stumbled upon some kind of oasis.

"Looks like we've got water," Captain Stinson said happily as acknowledged the trickling noises they were all now starting to hear.

"About time," Agent Fraser grumbled, noting his camel-pack was feeling uncomfortably light.

"Let's take a quick breather and get some refills on our water bladders. Hopefully it's clean."

"Hey Doc, got any water testing equipment with you?" Fraser called out.

"Always," the young geologist said happily and started scrambling to get up the bank.

"Here," Captain Stinson sighed, taking one of Hart's cases, "Explaining to Colonel why you broke your leg falling down the hill isn't my way of starting the day."

"Alright, fine by me," Hart said with a smile as she got up as the others began to get up with them.

"Wait! Are you nuts?!" Dr. Martinez suddenly hissed quietly.

"What is it this time?" one of the troops groaned.

"That creature that was giving us a rough time last night is clearly territorial, and we now see why," he replied, pointing at the thick green brush, "Water is worth protecting, odds are that this creature will protect it from us."

"The geek's right," one of the other troops piped up, "We may want to be careful here."

"Alright," Captain Stinson grumbled, "Squad One, spread out, safeties off. Clear the area of anything hostile."

The Colonial unit immediately moved forward, each of them somewhat jumpy as they got into the close quarters of the much more lively area. The very recent memory of last night stormed back as they all continued to contemplate what it was that might be waiting for them and how dangerous it might be. They all made their way in, carefully picking through the tall and rather sharp blades of grass. Their feet began to make slight squishing noises as they got closer to the source of water. But now they weren't able to see more than a few meters in front of their weapons, which were tucked to their shoulders, itching to be fired.

They were about to relax, but then something began stirring. As the leading Colonials got to the edge of the reed field they heard something moving in front of them, and it was big. There were a series of heavy splashes in water ahead of them, and the leading Colonial, Corporal Peter Barker, poked himself out of the reeds with weapon trained on the source. What he saw made him jump of course, but it was definitely no monster.

A red furred deer froze as it saw the Colonial, snorting loudly at him as he examined the graceful creature, determining that not even the ten-point rack on the animal was a threat to him. But thankfully it was alone in this little pond-like body of water that was gathered in a large bowl-like depression, surrounded by soft leaved trees and high grasses and reeds along the bank. The water was clear, although it was muddied up a little bit from the deer's movements.

"Just a deer!" Corporal Barker called out, his voice scaring off the deer, making it bound off, sending a couple splashes straight up.

"Well that's that I suppose," Dr. Martinez said calmly as other Colonials broke through the reeds, "No deer would stick around if there was a predator nearby."

"Well these aren't the deer we're used to," Captain replied, "Keep moving, make sure it's safe."

"We're on another planet, never before seen by the Colonies, safe went out the window a while ago," one of the troops, Corporal Katie Corlew laughed as she walked underneath the low lying branch of a tree, moving to higher ground.

"That's the truth," one of the other Colonials said in agreement.

But that's when all hell broke loose. As Corlew walked beneath the thick tree, a large, hairy arm snapped downwards, grabbing the Colonial by her pack, and yanked her upwards. She immediately yelled in surprised, and on instinct squeezed the trigger on her rifle, sending a handful of bullets into the ground, the pops of the rifle and her screams letting the entire squad know something had gone very wrong.

"Corlew!" Stinson yelled, running through the knee deep water to where he could see the convulsing trees and then saw her come flying out of the tree, taking a great many branches and a shower of leaves with her.

Corporal Corlew landed in the water with a splash without her helmet, coughing and gasping for air. She'd lost her rifle along with her pack and her face was cut several times from the trip through the tree. Stinson saw she was alive and conscious and took aim at the opening in the tree in front of them as two more Colonials ran to join him. But what they saw come out of the tree made them freeze in terror.

A massive ape-like creature leapt from the tree, landing in the water in front of them. Its fur was a dark brown, and its nostrils were tall and thin, it had thin lips, and a pronounced brow with a pair of dark eyes glaring at them without the slightest hint of fear in them. But those things didn't intimidate the Colonials, the fact it was easily seven feet tall and even more easily weighed close to three or four hundred pounds.

"Kill that frakker!" Corlew roared as she scrambled to her feet, fear being replaced by absolute rage.

At the sudden roar from the Colonial soldier the creature roared at them, and then came towards them, fists balled tight, sharp teeth barred. And the Colonials opened fire with a vengeance. All three rifle armed Colonials depressed their triggers and sent their deadly rounds downrange. But what happened next defied possibility. The bullets seemed to splash across a golden shroud that lit up as the rounds struck home. This didn't seem possible, yet as the creature confidently strode towards the Colonials it sure seemed real.

"What the frak is this?!" one of the troops screamed in terror as he reloaded.

Upon seeing the man reach for his vest to reload the creature then almost seemed to grin and then lowered its shoulders and charged with an accompanying roar that sounded disturbingly familiar. But the familiarity was not a very pressing concern as it lunged forward and grabbed the Colonial by his entire chest, shoving him downwards and into the water, dunking him below the water and snapping his collar bone in two places. Stinson jumped off to the side and kept his weapon firing, but even then the gold shield remained in place. And he now saw a small shimmer of gold on the creature's left wrist and a glowing red crystal embedded in it. But that same arm immediately slapped him ripping his rifle out of his hands and out of sight, and him two feet into the air and into the third soldier.

"Captain!" Corporal Corlew screamed as she pulled his pistol out and fired point blank right into the shielded face of the creature, but her hand and the pistol were grabbed with enough force to send a shot of pain as the force of the creature nearly broke her fingers.

But she ignored the pain and ripped her combat knife from its scabbard and jabbed upwards, but the creature must have been a close quarters specialist, because it made a move to stop her, but a roar of pain sounded out in response to its move. Corlew was somewhat surprised to see her knife had gone right through the creature's right hand, clean through the middle of the palm with the point going through with the point visible through the dirty fur on the back of it. Blood gushed from the wound as the creature now growled face to face with the Colonial corporal and tossed her into air, making her plow right into a tree trunk, cracking several ribs and knocking her unconscious.

"Rocket!" a yell from Lieutenant Arroyo came from the side, and a loud bang sounded out as a Colonial Mark Forty-Six twenty-five millimeter rifle rocket slammed into the creature's shield, making it stumble and kneel from the force of the explosion.

"Light 'em up!" the lieutenant yelled as she reached down to reload the rocket into the underslung launcher on her rifle.

Three more Colonial soldiers now burst from the reeds, well separated from each other as they continued firing. One carried a SAW, and was letting rip, each round plowing right into the creature's shield as it recovered, the bullets not phasing it in the least. But by this time Captain Stinson and Sergeant Warren were up to their feet, and saw that the creature was about to unleash hell on their comrades. They couldn't let that happen and the two men pulled their weapons and fired from less than a few yards from the creature that was now fully surrounded by firing Colonials.

"That shield's taking everything we've got, we need AP!" Stinson yelled as he popped away with his pistol as another rocket from Arroyo slammed into the creature's head.

He was referring to the armor piercing rocket launcher that they'd brought along and that the unconscious man whose collar bone had been broken in the first phase still had slung over his shoulder as he floated in the water. But the creature made its move before Sergeant Warren could grab for the launcher. It jumped up into the air, landing right in front of the Colonial trio of reinforcements and grabbed both, throwing the one in its right hand at Lieutenant Arroyo and then slung the other man right into Captain Stinson who was keeping himself between the creature and Warren, who was getting the small rocket launcher off of their downed man. But this didn't help, as it only sent all three Colonials sprawling into the water.

"What does it take to kill this thing?!" Stinson roared in fury as he tried getting to his feet but found himself without his pistol.

But when he turned around it was there, standing over him, and it then reached up, and very deliberately slid the still embedded knife from its left palm out and then held it firmly in front of the Colonial officer. A low snarl emanated from its throat as Stinson defiantly stood up, and drew his own blade.

"Stinson get down!" a new voice yelled out, and Stinson saw the form of Agent Fraser standing off to the right aiming his submachine gun at the creature and Stinson complied immediately, diving away as the man fired.

Fraser had heard the battle from afar, and after ordering the civilians to stay put and draw their weapons he'd rushed to the sound of the guns. And he'd found quite a mess waiting for him. Every member of the military team was down on the ground or in the water, injured or hurting from quite a beating. And then he'd seen one interesting beast standing over them, and fired. But he hadn't seen the knife, but as the creature faced him he saw it in the beast's right hand.

"Fraser got the civilians out of here!" Stinson ordered as the beast continued to walk forward.

"Get your men out of here first! They need you guys!" Fraser snapped back as he stepped forward, moving closer to the beast in utter defiance.

Soon his clip ran dry and he pulled his pistol, and fired extremely quickly, and ran that dry as well. But to no effect the creature now snapped his arm out and grabbed Fraser by the neck and lifted him off the ground. It seemed to look Fraser right in the eyes and then pulled the knife up, reversing its grip and prepared to deliver a lethal blow that was set to be aimed right at his forehead.

However things seemed to be on the side of the Colonials, as something caught the creature's eye, and it looked up and behind Fraser, and tossed him to the side, landing in the reeds. It let out a low defensive growl, and backed up assuming a purely defensive posture. And then the Colonials saw it, and felt their hearts drop immediately. It was another creature, but this one was a full foot taller at least and its fur was jet black. What it was doing here was something that the other Colonials were somewhat apprehensive about, as they knew full well what this smaller one was doing to them.

_I apologize for this criminal's behavior children of Kobol. Care for your injured and return home_, a calm voice spoke through each Colonial's mind as if the speaker were right there saying it to their face.

The black creature raised its right arm, and the Colonials saw a silver arm band with four boxy bulges on the side closer to the hand and a bar on the inside of the arm on a hinge close to the thumb. Green lights lined its artistically covered face, and then glowed with increased strength as all four bulges clicked and then slid up with green crystals so they cleared the creature's large hand. The handle flipped into the creature's hand, finishing the transition to active weapon. The creature then aimed its arm at the brown one that the Colonials had already been contending with.

The first one didn't seem to like this very much and roared in defiance and charged. But the new arrival didn't even flinch away, it just pulled the trigger and four green bolts slammed into the charging creature, shattering the gold shield with ease and launching the beast five feet backwards to land with a large splash and going completely limp. The new arrival deactivated its wrist weapon and then tapped the inside of his device and a silver disk no bigger than a few inches fell into its hand and he tossed it right onto the unconscious body of its foe.

"Well we softened it up for you," Lieutenant Arroyo said harshly as the Colonials began to stand up in amazement.

_Perhaps_, that same voice said with complete nonchalance through the minds of the Colonials once more. But the thing that definitely weirded out every one of them was that the creature's mouth didn't move at all.

However a new oddity in this day of days surprised all of them. The body of their now downed foe was surrounded by a golden light and then disappeared, the water rushing to the spot where its presence needed to be filled in.

"What the frak?" one of the men mumbled under his breath.

_You have many questions, I know, and you're now wondering if you should open fire, Captain,_ the creature turned around and faced Captain Stinson directly, _I assure you of this, I will not harm you and there are no more of my kind on this planet for you to fear once I am gone to return my prisoner. Now it is best that you and your people return home. Now that you've seen us we will be contacting your people. And yes, I know to contact Choros, your people are like Earth used to be, easily frightened by the possibility of their people learning a hard truth._

"Earth?" Fraser whispered.

_Hmm…perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned them. Another time perhaps, I'll see you around._

The creature now changed in tone and posture. It seemed awkward, as if it had just said something it wasn't supposed to. But how could he or whatever it was know that there was something going on between them without being told? That and many more questions swarmed in the Colonials' minds as they saw the creature whisk itself away in a ball of golden light.

For a first trip with humble expectations a lot was sure going on here.

Lucian Homeworld, Aboard The Colony

The Colony had been undergoing some drastic changes, especially since the Cylons had taken over just about every job that the Lucians, their new allies, needed. Everything from building up the infrastructure of the capital city to mirror what the Cylons' earliest models had built on the Colonial homeworlds, to redesigning a hybrid fleet with a secret and sinister purpose. But that purpose was to be revealed when it was far too late for anyone to do anything to stop it.

And it was this purpose that the Cylons were currently discussing at their normal meeting place aboard the Colony which was surrounded on all sides by a massive fleet of their newly retrofitted Basestars. These redesigned and upgraded warships were also accompanied by defense satellites which were also in orbit around the Lucian homeworld and a dozen or so other crucial planets that were far enough away from the Jaffa that they wouldn't be located and their secret would be safe. They were small, with a naquadah generator providing a shield and power for six small plasma cannons mounted on the ends of twenty meter long arms arranged around a central cube with each corner having one jutting spire with the guns on the ends. Also mounted were eight single point-defense guns firing conventional rounds. These satellites weren't very tough, but the prevailing Cylon theory was that they would be more than a match for the unshielded Colonial Fleet and too numerous for the much more feared Earth fleet to handle.

The Cylons had become a rather valued and somewhat revered ally for the Lucians, who had, over the last few years, showered them with gifts of technology, new creature comforts, and most of all, the locations of thousands of human worlds. Many of these were primitive at best, not even mastering gunpowder. Handfuls were under either direct Lucian control or, as was the case with most of them, were under Lucian influence. But in a galaxy of thousands of planets that meant several hundred human worlds and yet only a few billion humans. And this massive spread of population centers presented a challenge to the Cylons. A challenge compounded by their protectors which took the form of a near-human species that the Lucians had introduced as the Jaffa. And these Jaffa posed a problem and a half to the Cylons. And the meeting this day was on the subject of the Jaffa.

Inside the newly refurbished meeting room, complete with a large exquisitely carved table, a soft elaborate rug, and a plethora of drinks and foods shipped in from the Lucians' holdings across the galaxy.

"We've been waiting and entertaining these Lucians for too long," the lead Cylon Model Five declared as the meeting was brought to order, "When will we deal with them?"

"When we're certain of a rapid success," the lead Model One, Cavil, said confidently as he sipped some wine.

"A rapid success? We've been capable of that for a year now," a Model Three growled.

"If you're talking about wiping out the Lucians then yes we are, but wiping out the rest of the humans and the Jaffa is another matter altogether," a Number Four responded as he rubbed his chin in contemplation.

"I think we need to re-evaluate our goals before continuing. We all want to wipe out these Lucians, and then move on to wipe out the Colonials along with Earth. But in what order do we do this?" a Six responded.

"We wipe out the Lucians first thing," the Five snapped.

"Of course," Cavil nodded, "We mustn't leave a potential foe at our backs."

"Well that's the big problem we face isn't it?" a Model Eight mumbled to herself.

"What?" Cavil asked, hearing the mumbling but not quite understanding it.

"We have too many enemies," the Eight reiterated, louder this time, "We can't fight every civilization in this galaxy. We're behind in technology and not even we can mass enough numbers to wage a galactic war."

A quick silence enveloped the Cylon council as this thought sunk in. Admitting to a weakness in reality wasn't weakness in character as far as the Cylons were concerned. It was merely a problem which was meant to be solved. If one didn't bring it to light their foes would.

"She's right," the Four admitted, "We can wipe out the Lucians within days. We've easily placed ourselves into a position of trust. Millions of Centurions and thousands of Raiders are guarding their new cities with their exact blueprints wired in. They've also lowered their guard and practically left us in complete control of any military they ever had."

"There's no argument there. And for their foolishness in placing trust we've gotten plasma weapons, shields, and new long range FTL systems," the Five responded.

"We need to prioritize our targets."

"We can wipe out the Lucians at a time of our choosing. So it's a matter of prioritizing our other targets; Earth, the Jaffa, and the Colonials."

"We'll need to test them, we can't make a decision of such importance without information on how they will fight back," Cavil suggested.

"Can we insure that none of them will find us and launch a counterstroke?" a Two piped up.

"Yes, we have three new mobile command station with a resurrection chamber that can be a base for a strike against whoever we choose to strike," a Four mentioned.

"I motion for a strike against the Jaffa first, we have an idea of how the Colonials and Earth will fight already. The Jaffa are a mystery to us."

"I second," the Eight agreed.

Other hands went into the air, the logic of the plan being quite sound and thus the decision was made.

"Very well," Cavil said, "Now, for the type of strike to be launched."

"A large force will doubtless provoke the Jaffa to call for aid, luring Earth into the conflict," the Five said, noting the alliance between Earth and the Jaffa.

"So perhaps a minor strike force, five Basestars sounds fair."

"We'll need a target of opportunity," a Four said calmly, "I'll see what targets the Lucians have in mind, just to keep up the illusion of our alliance and use their intelligence."

"That sounds prudent, now…what about Earth?" Cavil asked, "We have plenty of forces to launch a mere probing raid on a minor target."

"No, best not to stir that hornets' nest until we're ready."

Several of the Cylons noted this odd push for conflict with Earth. It was not something that the others found to be a very good omen in the future when a balanced mind was key. And Cavil noted the looks in the faces of his other comrades and dropped it, for now. But he did decide to push for another option, the Colonials.

"Well what about the Colonials, it's been five years. Logic dictates that they've expanded their reach without the thought of the big bad Cylons around to prey on them."

"We could afford a scouting mission to take a look at what they've been up to. But for the sake of the overall plan I don't believe provoking the Colonials is prudent."

"I concur, an intelligence gathering mission is in order. But provoking the Colonial Fleet at this early stage would likely drag in other powers and the Colonials are clearly not at war with Earth as was planned."

"Yes the plan for Earth and the Colonies to bleed each other dry did fail. But we can afford to try again. Lucian Intelligence has indicated that the Colonies are completely cut off from Earth, and are doubtless looking for Earth. I vote for us to give the Colonials a shove in the right direction and hopefully those fools will start a war," Cavil suggested, opening the floor to votes.

"The Colonials know us too well, they would suspect us," one of the others mused.

"Yes…coupling that with a somewhat easy victory we gave them I don't think any early conflict will end the way you're predicting."

"I don't think that they'll be so quick to blame Earth either. And even if they do Earth will either defeat them without much loss or will force a surrender before either side come to serious blows."

"It's not what we want at all. The Colonials, despite their numbers, aren't able to compete with Earth in a straight war."

"Never thought I'd be wishing the frakking Colonials were more advanced."

Battlestar _Pegasus_, On Long Range Patrol

The entire ship was back on track to a normal peace-time schedule with a twist. The _Pegasus_ was now one of the primary vessels assigned to exploration duties. Of course there were many dedicated civilian government and private exploration vessels, but the military had a big part in going from exploration vessel to exploration vessel, checking on their status, see if there were any emergencies or see if the ships were even where they were supposed to be.

At the moment the _Pegasus_ and her battle group of a heavy cruiser, two light cruisers, four heavy destroyers, seven light destroyers, a Marinestar, and three replenishment ships were on their way to meet with a two ship exploration group. The actual exploration ship, the _Lucas Wanderer_, belonged to a university on Picon and was accompanied by a privately contracted supply ship, the _On Time III_. Both ships were supposed to be at a prearranged set of coordinates for a check-in, but as the timer counted down the _Pegasus_ Battle Group found itself with a problem. The two civilian ships hadn't shown up.

"Where's our civvies?" Admiral Cain snapped loudly as she walked into the bridge, where Colonel Belzen and Captain Taylor were going over plans to launch Raptors in a search pattern around the last known coordinates of the civilian ships.

"We're coordinating a search pattern now ma'am," Captain Cole responded, "I have eight Raptors already prepped and sixteen more are ready from the rest of the group."

"How far are we ranging our search?" Cain demanded.

"We're going in a grid pattern in the immediate vicinities of their last known coordinates," Belzen replied.

"How many people were on those ships?"

A quick silence hushed some of the closer members of the bridge crew as Belzen looked at Captain Cole. Then he looked at Cain and replied.

"One-hundred and twenty souls," Belzen reported, "Twenty aboard the _On Time III_ and sixty aboard the _Lucas Wanderer_. Thirty-five are professors and fifteen graduate students with a standard crew of forty. I have the crew manifest here."

Cain just nodded, thinking of the options. It was perfectly possible that the ships had just found something and the egg heads were keeping them off schedule. It had happened to the _Hades_ Battle Group, a three ship convoy of two exploration vessels and a tanker were hunted down only to have been found analyzing a planet that had turned out to be habitable and had a large variety of wildlife and plantlife. Three Battlestar groups ended up involved in the search before they'd found the damned ships and the project leader was immediately removed by the commander of the _Hades _as a warning to other exploration ships not to repeat that incident.

But there was another possibility, single Cylon pockets were being found every so often, although there hadn't been any found in nine months. So that possibility was always on Cain's mind. And to be honest, she relished the opportunity to finish off more Centurions or even get the rush of firing the Pegasus's big rail guns. And her ship had recently taken on a new rotation of replacement crew, pilots, and officers so there were no shortages of hotshots looking to make a name for themselves where there wasn't any opportunity to do so.

"What was the closest star system to them?" Cain asked as she remembered these facts.

"Here, two jumps away," Belzen replied, pointing at the system in question, "It's completely unexplored, so it's perfectly possible that they're there, perhaps just lost track.

"Send the Lucrecia and three destroyers to check it out and order them to send a Raptor if they find anything," Cain ordered.

"Yes ma'am."

"Let's hope we won't have to bail out those eggheads," Captain Cole said with a chuckle.

"I'd rather humiliate them than have them be babied in sickbay and in the news, although the commendations we get are usually worth it," Belzen responded.

"If we succeed that is."

**Well, it's been a little while, but I finally got around to it. The reasons for the delay are those many of us are quite used to. School and work, I just started a new job, but it's a part-time deal however the last week has seen me working five days in a row for training. But now, with school scheduled to restart on July 12****th**** I should be able to get some more enjoyable tasks completed.**

**So, yeah, that's it. Just work and school, but I'll try getting some progress on the next chapter tomorrow considering if my family's new puppy doesn't try biting my face into pieces. (Yes puppies have VERY sharp teeth and claws. And ours is very handsy with those paws of hers.) Remember to leave a review telling me what you think about the update such as ides and potential improvement. I can't fix it if I don't know what's broke.**

**Next Chapter Preview: Rescue mission, in the Colonial style. And will our intrepid RSEC Team heed the advice of…Bigfoot?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Location: Fort Jacob Carter MTP

Date: February 8, 2025

Time: 0630

"Alright, follow this road until you reach the visitors' parking lot and your escorts will be waiting for you there," the Norwegian MP at the main gate to Fort Carter said with one last friendly word to the van full of TNU students, "Welcome to Fort Carter."

The man backed away, waving them forward as another trooper in the security booth hit the button that brought down the large concrete block in the road that prevented anything from driving into the base that they didn't want in. There were three vans full of students that had made it here to Fort Carter, and the vehicles and their passengers were very thoroughly searched with dogs and an unseen and unmentioned scanner mounted on the large security entryway garrisoned by a squad of military police and a team of dog handlers. It was a well beautified entry, with bushes, flowers, and a long row of flagpoles with every nation that had sent troops and crews represented in alphabetical order. The buildings were stark white painted reinforced concrete, and made of perfectly square ninety degree angles and tinted black windows. It was a perfectly modern-looking façade, which was echoed across the hundreds of barracks, office buildings, garages, workshops, and everything in between.

All of the TNU students were getting a good look at these buildings now from their vans as they traveled along the relatively empty road.

"You'd think that the military would prefer to keep their buildings camouflaged," one of the students said as they noticed the rows of open garages, filled with large, heavily armored wheeled vehicles such as the M-403 "Wolverine" Light Joint Tactical Vehicles, and M-404 "Hyena" Medium Joint Tactical Vehicles.

"This is their headquarters, everyone knows it's here. Might as well look good," someone else said calmly, looking at the numerous vehicles and soldiers walking around in uniform, going about their everyday business.

"Whoa! Stop!"

The van came to a somewhat sudden stop as a soldier in full armor with his rifle slung over his shoulder had run out into the road, and was holding his arm out in the universal signal to stop. Another soldier was doing the same thing to the other side of the road, preventing a pair of Wolverines from continuing on their own drive.

The sudden brake had woken up Hannah from her two minute nap which she'd fallen into since it was six o'clock in the morning on a Saturday. She and her class were here as a biology class field trip that was purely an extra credit opportunity. She'd been among the first searched and had sort of fallen asleep in her seat as she'd waited for her fellow students and their equipment to be thoroughly searched and cleared. But now, she woke up to the sudden braking of the vehicle.

"What the…" she grumbled, rubbing her eyes as she sat up.

"Hello there sleeping beauty," her friend Kirsti piped up as she stirred.

"How can you be so chipper this early in the morning?" Hannah groaned.

"Well this is my major, and it's not every day you get to be on the Fortress."

"Whoop-dee-do, military stuff. It's not like the EDF doesn't broadcast how mighty they are all the time," Hannah shrugged, still somewhat grumpy from a lack of sleep thanks to a long night of reading several chapters for her offworld civilizations course.

As she said that a large number of EDF troops marching in formation with rifles, machine guns, and rocket launchers slung over their shoulders. There were probably a company of them, and on their right shoulders, which were facing them, were the EDF patches below another of their country of origin, in the case of this particular company, Japan. The troops passed quickly enough, and the road guards who had stopped traffic sprinted back into formation, allowing their vans to continue to the visitors' parking lot, which didn't take much longer.

The vans were buzzing as the students all saw the five vehicles already waiting on them. Two were the lighter wheeled 4x4 types with covered turrets complete with a fifty caliber triple-barreled heavy machine gun in it. The other three were much larger, being eerily reminiscent of the BAE Caiman or RG-33 MRAP's, with an emphasis placed on survivability and ruggedness by their British and South African designers. They were 6x6 vehicles that were several feet taller than the Wolverines, even without turrets. They had their rear ramps lowered, allowing the students to see into the cabs of the three vehicles lined up in a row. All three were covered in a fabric-like material with loops and strips hanging off of it colored in dark green, black, and brown, It was the exact same pattern that the squad worth of EDF troops sitting in some covered bleachers wore on their uniforms, which was a near rip-off of Singapore's SAF Woodland pattern. They were listening to another man standing in the grass in front of them and finished up their briefing as the vans pulled in.

The lights were on in the large parking lot, as it was still a little bit dark out, but not so much that the lights on their vans or the lampposts in the parking lot were needed. The vans pulled in, cutting across the many empty parking spaces and pulled into parking spots next to the grass with a couple of spots in between each of them, and the students were finally able to get out. Hannah, being next to the door, was one of the first.

With her backpack in hand she stepped onto the wet concrete, fresh from a light shower that had fallen on their islands for a half hour before petering out. The rest of the students were right behind her, taking in the whole experience.

"Everyone take a seat at the bleachers," Hannah heard her professor call out as soon as the vans were shut off.

She pulled at her backpack she'd packed with a lunch, some cereal bars, three powerades, a first aid kit, bug spray, and sunscreen and then walked over to the bleachers that the squad worth of EDF troopers were now vacating to allow the students to sit down. The six professors all went over to the officer who'd been speaking with the troops earlier and shook hands and spoke for a few seconds while the thirty students all piled onto the bleachers as the sun just began peaking over the mountains.

"Alright everyone take a seat and listen carefully," Professor Griswald, the Biology Department Head, called out, "For all of you this is your first time out in the field with us so you're going to have to go through a safety briefing from Colonel Park. This one isn't much different than the ones you have already heard in class. But the military has a few extra points to share before we head out. Colonel."

The former ROK Marine officer stepped forward with that introduction with the assigned squad right behind him.

"Thank you Doctor," he started, "Welcome to Fort Jacob Carter everyone. As I'm sure you've all been told over the past few months this is the headquarters for the Earth Defense Force, which means this is a very large island. And thanks to long-time cooperation with TNU's scientists you have the opportunity to come here and study the unique wildlife and plantlife of the island.

"However, there are some safety matters that we must address. They are broken down into several simple rules that you must follow at all times. Number one, do not go anywhere alone. Number two, do as you are instructed by your military escorts no questions. They are highly trained professionals whose assigned duty is your protection, it only makes their job harder if you put yourselves in dangerous situations. Number three, use your common sense. If something looks dangerous or your aren't sure about it leave it alone and call your professors or your military escorts. They have more experience and training, respectively, out here than anyone. Now, those rules are simple , if they're obeyed we will not have any problems. Any questions?"

The man stood there, his hands clasped behind his back. The students didn't really have any questions, the rules were simple, they'd already had an after-class lecture on what they would be doing down to the minute. So the colonel nodded and turned to the squad behind him.

"Sergeant, help them pack up their equipment and mount up."

"Yes sir," one of the soldiers called out and waved his arm in the arm to signal his squad, "You heard the Colonel pack it up and mount up."

The students were instructed to grab the boxes of equipment on top of the racks bolted to the vans' roofs and this was left to the boys for the most part. The group was also aided by the troops who would place their equipment cases into the racks on the Hyenas alongside jerry cans of water and a couple cases of medical supplies.

"So what's with the stuff on your vehicles?" one of the students asked a girl who was doing a systems check in the driver's seat.

"The Multispec? It's camouflage, it hides our silhouette, matches natural texture, and hides us from thermal and ultraviolet vision systems and we can slip in branches, leaves, and anything else we might need," the blonde said patting the armored beast appreciatively from her seat, which only allowed everyone to see to her knees the door was so small.

Several other guys were standing nearby and were conversing with several of the other female members of the squad and tried being gentlemen about hefting the equipment as they tried flirting with the troops. The process of loading didn't take long, in fact it was over in less than five minutes before the group was ushered into the large Hyena MTV's. A pair of troops was present to make certain that everyone got in alright, and Hannah found herself getting into the lead Hyena vehicle along Kirsti, her friend.

"Here you go, watch your step," the man who she recognized as the squad's leader, J. Hanson as his nametag read, said calmly, offering a hand up the two steps built into the hatch.

"I've got it," Hannah said, thinking she could easily make her way up into the cab.

"Alright, suit yourself, just make sure you duck your head."

Hannah followed his advice, but in the process of making sure she didn't slam her head on the top of the frame she forgot to pick up her feet and her foot just caught the lip into the vehicle, making her stumble and fall onto the black rubber floor of the Hyena with a none-too-graceful flop. Her cheeks flushed a hot red as several chuckles from the troopers helping them in along with some of her classmates.

"Haha, laugh it up," Hannah grumbled as she sat down in the wall mounted seat closest to the driver.

"It says watch your step right there. I thought you college kids were supposed to read," Hanson said with a laugh.

"I thought you soldiers were supposed to make sure we didn't get hurt?" Hannah snapped back, "I wonder what your officers would say if one of us had to file a complaint."

The two troopers gave her a glare, somewhat astonished at how petty she was being, and to be fair she knew she was. But she had to get the attention off of her and get them to leave her alone. That sort of attention was not the way to start the school year with stories of being a klutz. But thankfully the two of them shrugged it off and helped the rest of the students pile into the vehicle without much else happening aside from one of the troops having to order one of the students out of the front passenger seat. The Italian kid was then slapped with several military regulations when he asked why in a tone that the massive man didn't take kindly to.

But as Hannah sat there she noticed that Kirsti was beaming next to her with an enormous smile on her face that Hannah knew Kirsti was wanting her to ask about.

"What's with the funny smile?" Hannah asked.

Kirsti simply showed Hannah her phone which had some new contact info on it.

"I got one of their numbers," Kirsti grinned, "Corporal Andrew Tess, the guy in the driver's seat."

"Really?" Hannah said, her eyebrows perking up as she turned and saw the eyes of the man in question looking back at them through the rear view mirror.

"Hot right?"

Hannah saw the man grin before focusing his eyes back on the road and she lost sight of his face thanks to the patrol caps that each of the soldiers were wearing in the stead of their helmets.

"Not bad," she responded as the vehicle started rumbling forward behind another one of its brothers and the smaller lead Wolverine.

The convoy pulled out onto the road, without much pomp or circumstance. In the lead Wolverine Staff Sergeant Jason Hanson was relaxing in shotgun besides Corporal MacFierce, in her usual odd position of being in the right hand seat and driving.

"I tell ya MacFierce, I'd rather be out there with the rest of the battalion than here babysitting," Jason said calmly.

"Oh it's not that bad Sarge," his driver replied with a shrug as she took a drink of Gatorade as they turned onto the beach front road, "Besides, it's easy duty. No obstacle courses, no PT, and no getting shot at or digging our victors out of the mud."

"I don't mind the PT or the training, but that fucking mud though…"

Hanson couldn't help but agree. The PT here wasn't the stereotypical run and exercise he and the other veterans had done with their own national armies. It was reasonably challenging mentally with numerous obstacles so it was fun once you were in shape. And the combat was as big an adrenaline rush as they got to have and gave the unit plenty of opportunity to mess with their opponents. But fighting the mud that frequently swallowed their vehicles' tires was a pain in the ass.

"Did you see those guys hitting on Anna?" Lily asked as they continued along.

"No I didn't," Jason responded without looking at her. Nineteen-year old PFC Anna Smith was the squad's smallest individual and claimed she'd been looking at a modelling career before the declassification and saw the opportunity to serve a tour in the EDF as a great way to get the discipline that she felt would give her an edge in the industry.

"Well she was definitely enjoying the attention," MacFierce said matter-of-factly, "And she wasn't the only one I hear."

"Yeah I saw Tess get a girl's number as he was stowing their equipment."

"Not just him," MacFierce responded, somewhat agitated.

"Let me guess," Hanson chuckled, looking over and seeing MacFierce holding several post-it cards she kept in her pocket. Each one of them had a cell phone number on their pink nonstick faces.

"Three potential…candidates," MacFierce said with a sly look.

"We'll see how long they last," Hanson laughed.

"I'm not the only one who had some looks," MacFierce replied slyly.

"Let me guess, me?" Hanson chuckled.

"Oh you noticed?"

"Yeah a few."

"I heard one of those girls in the Hyena gave you some lip earlier," MacFierce mentioned as the conversation grew quiet.

"Oh, yeah, the girl just tripped up on the hatch into the cab and fell. No big deal but she didn't like being laughed at," Jason shrugged.

"I'd bet not. There's nothing a girl hates worse than being the butt of a joke. Go easy on her, she's just a civilian," the young Brit responded, "Matter of fact Sarge we might want to go easy on all of them."

"Where's the fun in that?" Jason laughed, noticing a force of tanks in front of them heading in the same direction, "Go around them, Delta Two-Three go around the tanks and make sure you keep your distance."

"Roger," the radio responses came on the radio as the lead Wolverine passed the tank column, themselves covered in the same Multi-Spectral camouflage as the rest of the EDF's vehicles. He could just hear the ooh's and ah's from the students in the back of the Hyenas.

"I didn't hear anything about the armor heading out," MacFierce noted, seeing literally a battalion of armor moving down the road.

"I heard some of the Russian battalions have got some sort of joint op on the mainland with their dropships, supposedly they're testing high speed drops," Tremon said on the radio.

"Where's you hear that?" Waters called out in response.

"Waters you'd better not be driving," Jason growled.

"Uh…no," the response came.

"You stay three lengths back at all times," MacFierce responded testily.

"Yes Corporal," the Brit replied sourly.

"Alright enough," Jason said with a bit of annoyance, "We might have an easy day but let's keep some manner of professionalism. We're under a microscope today, let's make sure our impression is the right one."

A bunch of rogers echoed his orders as the convoy turned onto a paved two-lane road up-slope towards the western end of the island where the area had been cleared of any troops on maneuvers for the sake of safety for the students and scientists of TNU. The concrete wound its way past several outposts, fortified defensive weapons emplacements camouflaged with multi-spectral camo nets, sensor stations, and several parking lots. At the final parking lot which had several bleachers and a bathroom building in it the convoy pulled over.

"Alright, hard dismount," Jason ordered over their radio, "we'll move on foot. 3-2-Alpha's on point, Bravo in the center on both flanks and Charlie bring up the rear and police any stragglers."

"Copy that."

"Shut it off, grab your rifle and pack," Jason said to MacFierce as he grabbed his own pack he'd been ordered to fill with a normal combat load as part of a small workout. His pockets, vest, and backpack had all the necessities: three magazines of red tracers and six magazines of normal rounds of which all nine were a new armor piercing material, two magazines for his pistol, three frag grenades, six smoke grenades in red white and blue, three flash bangs, a block of C4 with detonator, bandages, a half dozen chem-lights, batteries, bayonet, multi-tool, and an MRE.

It was quite a bit of stuff to haul around, but it was a kind of punishment for getting killed on the second night of battalion war games. The students themselves didn't need to know what it was they were carrying, and it was probably for the best. But better to be prepared, and the unit also had their helmets tied to the back of their packs, seeing as the appearance of them in those helmets wouldn't do much for their image and it was more comfortable to wear their patrol caps and sunglasses.

By now the students and his squad were out of the vehicles and were being secured and the professors were starting to hand out cameras, latex gloves, plastic bags, and specimen jars. The professors were getting together with their students, outlining what exactly they were looking for, what to touch, what not to touch. Once that was done the lead professor, Dr. Correia, an experienced Amazon and offworld biologist, walked over to the squad which was gathered at the beginning of the dirt trail.

"Sergeant?" the older woman spoke in her thick Portuguese accent, "We are ready when you are."

"Alright Doctor," Jason said calmly, taking his rifle and making sure he had a magazine in it.

"Move out! Magazines in, safeties on, chambers empty. Doctor if you'll follow me please."

Jason led the way with the experienced biologist right behind him. His squad spread out along the line of students and several professors, several of whom had video cameras or their phones filming the whole experience. The troops were relaxed, just keeping their eyes on the column of students who were now getting into the groove. But there were dangers in this forest, some easily seen, some so-far undiscovered, not even by the might of the Earth Defense Force.

Location: Planet P5X-359

The team had walked into a thunderstorm, a nasty one. They'd been on this planet for several hours, and had to struggle to get four ten foot by thirty foot aluminum supported tents set up. This directly went against what the civilian team wanted to do, which was to begin going out and studying the local landscape, animals, and find any signs of Human or alien life.

"Jeez, how long is this storm going to last?" Dr. Underwood grumbled as he looked out the clear plastic window where he'd been examining the sensor feed from a sensor device that Captain Haley was busying herself calibrating outside in the weather.

"Wrong net Underwood," Haley responded testily.

"I was talking to you," Underwood replied to her.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice that I was reading off of a teleprompter," she responded, "I'm no weather forecaster Underwood. Ask Doctor Lopez, he's the expert in that field and I'm already busy."

"He's also busy examining the rock formations with Brenda. Apparently they're just like some place in South America."

"South America?" Underwood gawked, but then a massive crash of thunder sounded out that reverberated throughout the spacious tent they were sharing with their medical doctors who were busy treating Captain Pauley who'd twisted his ankle in a hole concealed by a puddle, "Well, it certainly rains enough to be wherever that place is in South America."

"Tepui, a table-top mountain in Venezuela," Underwood's assistant, Dr. Ruby Ellis, sounded out, "I actually went there once. It's incredible really, like a lost world."

"Like in Up?" Dr. Katherine Lawson asked from where she'd been talking with her patient and her own assistant who was just finishing wrapping up his ankle.

"The movie?" Ruby asked.

"Yeah, the Pixar one? The one that started out with the shy grandpa, only he's a kid then, meeting this wild and crazy girl, they become friends, they get married, try to have kids but can't have many years of happiness and then she dies. Oh I'm crying just thinking about it," Dr. Lawson, or Cathy as her friends knew her, sniffed sadly, remembering one of her favorite movies.

"I haven't seen it yet," Ruby said testily, "No spoilers."

"You haven't seen Up?!" Lieutenant Gibson gasped from his spot at a fold-out chair where he was playing a game of magnetic checkers on the folding table in the middle of the tent with the team sniper, Lieutenant Patricia Holden.

"That's probably the best animated film of all time," Lieutenant Holden added, putting her own two cents into the conversation.

"Oh I don't know about that, Up is great but I don't know if it can match up to Frozen," Dr. Lawson said looking out into the near distance to contemplate that.

"My daughters love that movie," Captain Pauley spoke up, "For three weeks that song was stuck in my head."

"True it's catchy, but it raked in the viewers."

"And that's what it's all about isn't it?" Holden said as she skipped over two of Gibson's red checkers and smiled a smug grin right at him.

"It's all about winning, whether it's cash or…" Gibson said and then saw his shot, and jumped two of Holden's pieces in one fell swoop, "at checkers. Queen me baby."

"No, no way," Holden stuttered, trying to figure out what had just happened by examining her board, "No way you had that kind of shot down the line."

"I did too, or shall we look at the instant replay?" Gibson said calmly as he tapped the camera on his helmet which was facing their game of checkers.

"It's true, my dear," a new voice sounded out as the team cultural expert, Dr. Bruce Walt, walked in from the storm, "Gah! Dreadful weather we're having isn't it?"

"You been watching us play Doc?" Gibson asked.

"I've tuned in every so often," the older British man replied with a witty smile, "Although I must say this has been driving me bonkers for two turns and you haven't yet noticed it Patricia. May I?"

"Sure," the brunette replied, offering him her place.

Immediately the man took a checker that Lieutenant Holden had had on her second to back right corner and then jumped to the right, taking one of Gibson's pieces, but then continued and took one more on the right side of the board, and as he did so, his direction was forced to switch left again and he ended up on the back row. And in classic form he smiled.

"Queen me baby," the man said with a wink and left the table, and left Gibson dumbstruck as to what had just happened.

"Whoa what just happened?"

However as he was trying to figure things out another new entry walked into the tent, Colonel O'Neill, back from his escort of the team biologist and geologist along with the civilian team leader Brenda Jackson. They'd been gone for several hours with Fire Team One of SG/S-1, not encountering any life whatsoever aside from some little shrubs and a couple of saplings.

"Tell me you have coffee," were his first words after he took off his helmet.

"Yes sir," Captain Pauley said, pointing at the steaming brew where it was resting on the table on a burner.

"What happened with the ankle?" O'Neill asked nonchalantly.

"Hole disguised as a puddle on our perimeter patrol sir. Not a big deal," Pauley replied with a shrug.

"I beg to differ," Dr. Tew responded testily, "You could have broken that ankle if it weren't for your boots."

"I'm fine," Pauley growled as he waved off the younger man.

"Really?" Dr. Lawson questioned, softly hitting the sensitive spot with the handle of her surgical scissors, "Fine my ass."

A wince and a reflexive pull-back rewarded her. He was definitely in pain.

"What'd you find on your circuit?" O'Neill asked as he moved the conversation onwards, knowing the pain but also knowing that any operator here could take that pain on their worst day and keep fighting.

"Nothing much, oh we did find what looked like a sapling, we thought Dr. White might want to know."

"Yeah we saw a few plants, and a lot of rocks," O'Neill said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

"Brenda getting' to ya huh Colonel?" Underwood asked as he examined his equipment.

"No…okay maybe my nerves are a little bit tested."

A few laughs echoed O'Neill's sentiment as the team settled back in, knowing that the storm was definitely preventing them from really doing much of anything at the moment aside from perimeter patrols. Colonel O'Neill didn't want to take the chance of having anyone lost or hurt in this kind of storm so thought it best to wait it out at least until the thunder and lightning were done.

"Anything happen on your patrol sir?" Lieutenant Holden asked as Gibson contemplated his next move.

"Nothing much besides standing around. I tell ya," he said as he took a sip of the coffee, "It's not the same as it was back in the day."

"Miss the old SG-1 huh?" Ruby asked as she too got her own cup of coffee.

"Of course, spend that much time and fight that many fights alongside one another and you get quite attached," O'Neill responded, "I'm not saying I won't grow to like any of you it's just that this is our first mission together."

"Give it time boss," Dr. Tew piped up as he put away his medical instruments, "You'll see what we can do given some more missions."

"Well it isn't so much the missions, it's the rough times, the times when the pressure is ratcheted up. The old SG-1 had been through so many fights, so many close calls, that I knew I could count on them."

"With respect sir," Holden responded, "There were four of you then. There's twenty of us now with more support and equipment than your old team ever got. We'll pull through for you."

O'Neill nodded at that, he'd picked the military portion of this SG-1 himself from an enormous stack of candidates. He had taken his pick from SEAL's, Delta Force, Rangers, Pararescue, and Marine Raiders to form a hell of a team of operators. But in his eyes they were still untested.

"Hey Haley," O'Neill heard Underwood say into the mike on in his ear, "Have you checked this equipment girl?"

"Of course I have," the somewhat temperamental blonde snapped back at him.

"Adjust your scanning range about twenty more miles, I'm getting some sort of magnetic signal in orbit, it's too weak to be an orbiting moon."

"You have something?" Ruby asked as attention turned towards them.

"I don't know yet, just waiting for…oh there we go," Underwood said as the scanner's range increased, "Hello hello, what have we here."

"Those are no asteroids," Ruby said with intrigue laced through her tone.

The screen on his tablet was showing two objects of roughly the same size but entirely different shapes. The 3-D imaging software laid out the look of what they were seeing to show a ship which had a bulbous front end and four engine nacelles connected by pylons jutting away from the main hull which had a series of scanning equipment scattered all over it. The second ship was different with a design that looked like a pencil with eight large crates bolted to the hull. They were maintaining their orbit in a clearly intended manner. As the group was watching this Haley walked in, eager to see for herself.

"Those are ships alright," Haley said from next to Underwood and then snapped into action.

"Whoa what're you doin' girl?" Underwood gasped as the the scanner went to an entirely different series of settings.

"Scanning the ships in detail and searching for life-signs. Run a search program to see if these ships have been encountered before."

"You know I was about to do the same thing?"

"Of course you were. I just beat you to it," Haley said as the scanner began to feed them the info desired, but was unexpected in exactly what it was telling them.

"Trace elements of highly diluted naquadah in large tanks in both vessels. I've never encountered it, but the data says the compound is…Tylium?"

"Tylium?" Ruby asked, "Never heard of it."

"I have."

Everyone in the tent, who were gathered around the new excitement of the scanning station, turned to see Brenda Jackson walking into the tent with her helmet off her hair dripping somewhat from the downpour they were experiencing.

"Please, share with us," O'Neill offered sarcastically, getting a sneer from Brenda.

"Tylium is the main fuel source of a human entity known as the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. The SGC made contact with them several years ago but some misunderstandings with the Colonials led us to break off contact until further notice. Nothing since then has been heard from them or of them."

"Aren't these the people who shot your dad?" Dr. Lawson asked.

"Yeah, he'd gone to a diplomatic satellite we'd positioned in their home system and things got out of control. It was an accident."

"Hey Haley run a life-signs scan for me please?" Underwood asked.

"Already did," Haley replied.

"Well you might want to check to see if maybe you missed the button because I'm not seeing anything."

"No lifesigns?" Captain Pauley now asked, "That doesn't make sense, how are those ships here if they don't have anyone aboard?"

"Uh oh," Haley said, "I'm picking up energy readings, signatures match Colonial FTL's. Lots of them."

"How many is a lot?" Brenda asked.

"From the data I'm getting…fifteen ships, they're out of our range for now but I can fix that," Underwood responded as he tapped at the tablet he now had in both hands.

"Whoa."

The data was now streaming in bigtime. The Colonials now counted nineteen ships, not fifteen. In the center was a ship bigger than the rest by quite a large margin. The data was by now identifying them rapidly as Colonial ships. They were seeing data rush across the right hand side in a separate window classifying them as destroyers, light and heavy cruisers, assault ships, supply ships, and a single Battlestar, _Pegasus_ class. Around them was a swirling patrol of fighters identified as Colonial Vipers and the fleet was headed right for the planet.

"Where'd they come from? And I thought you said there were fifteen ships Underwood?"

"Four of them were already here. And I am reading massive numbers of life signs from them. My scanner is working, so those smaller vessels in high orbit are deserted," Haley clarified.

"Can we contact them?" Brenda asked.

"Sure," Ruby said, "It should be quite simple."

"Hold on," O'Neill suddenly interrupted, "I know these are the people that put your father in a wheel chair, I get it, but do not think that your little vendetta to prove he was right is going to supersede my authority."

"I've been waiting years for a chance to try and fix what went wrong between us. My father had the right idea, if you soldiers hadn't of been so ready to throw down he wouldn't be disabled," Brenda responded.

"Which is why you can't be the one to do it," O'Neill said calmly, knowing, in part, how she felt about this situation.

"Who else knows them better than I do?" Brenda demanded, "I'm the only one of us who has actually met a Colonial. I was at the cultural exhibition. I know they can be reasoned with."

"Are you willing to bet everyone's lives on it?" O'Neill asked.

Brenda hesitated, she knew she could do it. The chance to finish what he father had started was now at hand. However things were more complicated than that. They always were.

"Sir, I have something entering the atmosphere from the Colonial assault ship," Haley called out immediately upon seeing the heat bloom in the atmosphere, "It's a rough estimate but I'd say we have some kind of orbital entry vehicles."

"Can you give me a trajectory?" O'Neill asked.

"They're going to land within a mile of us."

**Okay it's up. I know it took forever with this one but I just had a bastard of a time getting started. But that doesn't matter anymore, it's here, now on to the next one. Oh I am also going to put a character list on my bio later on with the character names and the actors I envision would play them if this were to go on screen. You don't have to use them, it's more for me to get a starting point with their characters and slowly branch out and give them all the elaboration they deserve.**

**Next Chapter Preview: Earth's best see the Colonials in action firsthand, the hidden dangers of Terra Nova emerge, and the Jaffa go to war.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Location: Marinestar _Host of Hades_

Date: February 8, 2025

Time: 0130 Local Time

"Gentlemen the hours of boredom are over," the voice of Major Damecles sounded off as the assembled team of ten elite Colonial Commandoes got settled into their seats, "Two hours ago one of our cruisers found our lost civilian exploration vessels but attempts to hail yielded no response and after boarding we found this."

The officer hit a button and a picture of the bridge of the _Lucas Wanderer_ appeared. In the picture was the command center of the ship and on the floor were several bodies, gaping holes burnt into their chests. Blood was spread all over the floor and on the control boards and the chairs were missing along with what seemed like whatever else that wasn't bolted down.

"We found six other bodies on _Lucas Wanderer_ and twelve on the _On Time III_. All of them but three had these wounds, their cause is unknown. But the others were tortured, knife cuts, whip lashes, and blunt force trauma. The whereabouts of the other crew and passengers is unknown."

"Did the crew put up a fight?" one of the commandoes asked.

"It did seem like it, we found what looked to be human blood and bullet casings in the hallway near the hatch near the majority of the bodies. The merchant crewmen didn't want to give up their ship without a fight. But we can only guess as to who got frakked up worse without any film of it. Both ships had their logs physically destroyed."

"Sir I'm just going to ask what we're all thinking. Who are the frakkers that did this and do we have any idea where they are?" one of their Sergeants piped up, getting nods and murmurs of agreement.

"We think so," the Major replied, hitting the button again to show and orbital reconnaissance thermal image showing a few groupings of heat signatures and a large diamond shaped object that was outlined in red, "This is their camp as intelligence photographs show. And this could be their ship, of unknown origin as it doesn't match anything in our databases. It's roughly the size of a corvette, and its capabilities are unknown, as are its operators. But we do know these are numerous, heavily armed assholes. Treat them the same way you would with pirates or terrorists."

"Could this be Earth's doing sir?" one of them asked, bringing up the elephant in the room.

"Unknown at this time, but they could have intel on Earth. They might be behind it, they might not have any clue. Yes Lieutenant?" the major said seeing one of the new officers on the team raise his hand.

"What sort of numbers can we expect on target sir?"

"Unknown at this time but we're expecting anywhere from twenty to fifty hostiles. That's what we'd expect to be needed to crew of vessel of this size but there could be more, there could be less, we're just gonna have to roll with the punches on this one," Major Damecles responded honestly, and that didn't help his nineteen man team relax any.

"Sir are we going to have any air assets on standby?"

"That's an affirm, we'll have a section of Marine Vipers with full ground-pound capability and a pair of Raptors for extract should we need them. The big guns are being withheld due to the possibility of hostages so no orbital strikes today gentlemen. Instead, we'll be infiltrating via orbital drop pods with our LZ here in this clearing," the Major said as he progressed into the mission briefing itself, "From there we'll move north-east to this forested ridge overlooking the AO, callsign Point Buccaneer. It's about a klick out from where what looks like ruins of some sort are situated along the opposite side of the valley on the slope with terraces going upwards to where the ship is landed, callsign Target Alpha. We'll move by section, breaching sections in the center and the weapons sections on the flanks. Stealth is our ally, suppressors and blades only gentlemen. No explosives until we verify or secure our people."

"What is the number of people we're expecting to rescue sir?" one of the Captains asked.

"Ninety-eight civilians, but we have no idea of where they might be in the AO. So we'll have to be careful how we go about this. Any others?"

There were none.

"Alright gear up, we drop in fifteen."

Colonial Commando Teams were units of specially selected and trained troops that operated under the authority of Colonial Fleet Advanced Special Operations Division. Each Battlestar Group had a team of these Commandoes with them whenever they were on deployment, ready to react to such situations as hostage rescue, sabotage, recon, smash and grab, or straight-up annihilating anything that that had to be destroyed. Each team was commanded by an ASOD Major with a Combat Air Controller always in his hip pocket ready to bring down anything from rocket runs to a nuke. A Captain was in charge each of the two nine-man squads once they were on the ground. These were further broken down into two four-man sections led by a Lieutenant with NCO's no lower than a Sergeant being under their command.

Each squad had two unique sections; Section One was normally the breaching section with assault rifles customized with under-barrel grenade launchers, shotguns, or twenty-five millimeter rocket launchers meant for Cylon Centurions. One of them also had a one-shot rocket launcher strapped to his back, so whoever had it was usually the most senior NCO. Section Two was the weapons section with the squad designated marksman, a machine gunner and his assistant who helped carry spare boxes of ammo and also hefted the section's Multi-Purpose Missile Launcher, and then the section leader who usually had his choice of underbarrel attachments for his rifle. The team commander usually went along in between the two squads as the mission progressed if both were deployed in tandem with his CAC right alongside him calling in airstrikes as the mission progressed, should they be needed.

This team was known, on paper, as ASO Team 23, but like all Commando Teams they had a name for themselves that wasn't a number. They knew themselves and were known by others as the Skulls. This was due to the team's habit of wearing black balaclavas with white skulls colored into the cloth. It was mostly as a psychological edge, meant to terrify their enemies and give some measure of confidence in the team members. Because if you go into battle thinking you're not the baddest most capable individual out there you'll second guess yourself and be indecisive. And indecision gets people killed in this business.

So along with their characteristic skull balaclavas the team geared up in an all-black uniforms and Kevlar vests. Into these vests they packed in ammo, grenades of lethal and nonlethal types, smoke canisters, bandages, morpha, and ammunition for their under-barrel weapons attachments if they had one. They also tested out their infrared goggles that they put into their backpacks as their lightweight helmets had another attachment meant for them at the moment. For the drop into the atmosphere they put on an oxygen mask hooked to a small tank strapped to their chest and goggles along with an altimeter on their wrist like a watch.

The team was geared up quite quickly, being as elite as they were, and headed off to the limited access part of the ship that was made especially for them. Inside the guarded hatch was a row of brand new Orbital Entry Vehicles. These large pods were roughly the size of a Viper, with a blunt nose tapering off into a pointed end that sharply extended back out like a piston head. Each pod, as they were better known, was capable delivering five Commandoes in one drop from anywhere in orbit. The skin was built of the same material as Colonial Vipers, Raptors, and anything else designed to withstand re-entry into a planet's atmosphere. The seats inside were arranged facing outwards, with large doors that sealed them inside from the intense conditions that would be faced by the Commandoes. There was no real life-support system, and the troops didn't need to wear the unwieldy sealed flight gear that the pilots of the fleet wore as if there was a breach the heat would incinerate them before the zero atmosphere suffocated them.

"Alright," the chief petty officer in charge of the bay called out, "We've got some nasty weather conditions down there right now. Heavy rains but light winds with some electricity in the air. But that's already begun tapering off for the most part and should leave you in good shape, wet, but you'll be good to go."

"Roger that chief, alright load up, command wants this done," the major called out, ordering his troops into the pods in front of them.

One by one the commandoes entered the pods, seating themselves in the chairs in the small holes built into the main hull of the craft. Once seated crewmen made certain that the hatches shut perfectly, and the releasing bolts were flashing all green, because if those didn't pass inspection they didn't drop. However they all passed with honors, and Major Damecles was the final one of the team to get sealed into the pod. The hatch was shut, sealed and a small readout in front of him with a digital countdown timer was already going, with only forty-five seconds remaining.

He strapped his oxygen mask in place and activated his air tank and felt the cool sealed air moving into his mask. His heart began beating ever more rapidly as the timer hit thirty seconds. By now the bay was completely cleared of all personnel and anything they brought with them. The atmosphere was vented, and at ten seconds the silos that the pods were inside of were opened, allowing the pods free access to the drop that awaited them. Major Damecles and his entire team watched the timer with grim anticipation as their timers hit the final countdown which flashed to red and a dull beeping chirped at every second, growing into a higher pitch each time. And when zero hit the passengers felt their pods get released and then the externally mounted rocket thrusters activated and were propelled straight down and out of the belly of the Marinestar one-by-one.

"Entering atmosphere," the female voice of the automatic intercom called out as the pods began viciously vibrating as the heat outside began building up.

All four pods maneuvered into away from each other but stayed in a pre-programmed formation. Their pods began glowing as the atmosphere continued heating them up, trails of flame extending back showing their path into the atmosphere, contrasting brightly against the black and dark gray of the night-side of the planet they were now approaching at mind boggling speed.

But then their pods reached the end of the dangerous portion of the drop, and slowed down. And as they slowed a timed process began within the pods as a second timer began its own countdown. Five rocket boosters aimed downwards at the sides of each commando activated with a roar as flares began spilling from the craft, their bright white lights sparkling brightly, illuminating the now jet black pods as they dropped with an ever decreasing velocity. Then three massive parachutes released at five seconds on the countdown timers of the commandoes' hatches. All four pods slowed in tandem at an incredible rate, exerting massive G-Forces upon their occupants who'd only done this a few times before. And never in a storm, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Then the countdown timers hit zero while the pods were still thirty-five thousand feet. Each commando had been carefully strapped to his chair, but it was what was within the chair that they were strapped to, a parachute. Their seats were operated in a form very similar to an ejector seat on a Viper or Raptor, but were designed to be jettisoned straight out instead of up. And at zero they did so.

With a massive concussion the doors that had protected them were blasted away with explosive charges and then a second later their booster seats went flying away from the pods in tandem along with another trail of flares to cover the thermal signatures of the rocket seats and their human occupants. Once clear of the pods the seat simply fell away, flopping in the buffeting wind and rain. The troops themselves actually found themselves in a very odd sensory position, they were falling in the same direction as the rain itself, but were actually moving faster than the rain as it had a terminal velocity that was slower than that of a human, much faster, so much so that the rain stung their faces quite a lot, but their goggles and oxygen masks blocked out most of it.

"Gods damn!" the Major heard one of his commandoes yell, "Whose frakking idea was this?!"

"Keep a grip!" Lieutenant Aerien, one of his section leaders snapped back.

"Thirty-thousand feet!" Captain Erathon called out as they passed one of their thresholds.

The major and many of the other commandoes looked outwards, seeing the dull red lights of the smoke canisters mounted on the backs of the all of their parachutes, counting their comrades and were all of them relieved to see each of them was now falling at quite a velocity straight down. Minor arm and leg adjustments brought them all into a formation ten meters apart from each other, their only guide being the red of their smoke canisters, leaving a rapidly dispersing trace of their path to ground. The rapid descent was marked by the frequent calling out every time five thousand feet went by. And finally each commando looked at his altimeter and when the number hit fifteen hundred feet they yanked the cord on their parachutes.

The jolt was never something you got used to. Going from terminal velocity to a speed that was just a fraction of that knocked the breath out of the Colonials as they all slowed under the blossoming canopy of their dark gray parachutes. They each reached for and grabbed their canopy controls and began gliding forward, aiming for a well-defined clearing in the trees at the base of a fairly steep mountain that was now easily visible at their altitude off to their right. Each Colonial checked to be certain he'd lost nothing during the trying experience of their jump, and all of them saw their weapons were still strapped to their body.

"Touchdown in two mikes," Major Damecles called out into his mouthpiece, "Cobra Report status."

A second of the teams all calling out to their men followed on separate channels before they all responded.

"Skull-1 green."

"Skull-2 green."

"Skull-3 green," lastly came from his CAC before he responded.

"Skull-4 green."

Skull was the chosen radio call sign for the commando team. Skull-1 was the sign for first squad, with the two sections being Skull-1-Alpha and Skull-1-Bravo and Skull-2 followed a similar pattern. Normally, Skull-3 was the team's CAC, and Skull-4 was the team commander. It was different than the rest of the military but it was an easy system to remember.

"Feet down," came several times over the comms as the Colonials hit the ground at a running start, yanking their weapons to their shoulders and began scanning in the dark of the night as rain peppered away at their helmets and uniforms.

Each of them checked and rechecked their surroundings as their parachutes clung to the ground drenched from hours of rainfall.

"All Skulls this is Skull-4, ditch your chutes and masks. Rally on the tree-line near the big rock," Major Damecles ordered as he gathered up his parachute after detaching it from himself.

He saw that the other Commandoes were doing likewise, dragging their parachutes over to the massive rock but he was definitely closest. The rally point he'd chosen was an obvious one, a twenty foot tall piece of rock a few meters into the tree-line of dense low-lying foliage dripping wet thanks to the rainstorm that continued to pour down. The Major kept his silenced assault rifle in one hand with the hybrid sight flipped away so all he was looking through was his holographic sight which was colored the standard one dot of red. He'd also attached a laser pointer, flashlight, and an angled grip on his rifle. And he definitely felt that he needed his infrared goggles on his helmet as he was quite blind in the incredible darkness of the night. So when he got to the rock, which was absolutely covered in vines and leaves, he dug out his small but advanced goggles and clipped them to his helmet. But first he donned his team's distinctive balaclava.

He yanked it out, and pulled it over his head, making sure the eye and mouth slits were in place before he pulled his helmet back on. He noticed the rest of the team stacking their parachutes next to and on top of his as they too pulled on their own masks and clipped their night vision goggles to their helmets. He then flipped his goggles down to his face and they switched on automatically at that movement and the clear green tinted view that had become like a second way of seeing greeted him. He looked around with rifle instinctively tucked against his shoulder but aimed downwards.

"Sir I've got Warlord and Chariot on station now, awaiting orders in orbit to conserve fuel," Major Damecles's CAC, Lieutenant Meiros, said calmly signaling that their air cover was ready and waiting.

"Very well," Damecles responded before keying his radio, "All Skulls move to Point Buccaneer, One on the left and Two on the right. Eyes up, there might be roving patrols."

"Roger, Skull One is Oscar-Mike."

"Skull Two is Oscar-Mike."

"Stay tight Meiros," Damecles ordered his right hand man as the two teams advanced forward, guns at the ready, their eyes scanning forward with their night vision systems picking out the terrain with eyes tuned by years of experience and training.

But before he could move out something caught his eye. The massive stone that they'd been gathered around was mostly covered in vines and leaves, but he noticed something about now that he was closer. So he reached over with one hand and yanked at a group of vines and they fell away. What they revealed made him jump back in surprise, before him stood a carved image of a skull. But it wasn't just scratched into the surface. This was artistically carved with curls of embellishments. He also noticed something else, there were more of these skull carvings, well worn by many years of natural wear and tear in an environment such as this. Whatever this was standing before him was not natural.

"What the frak is this?" he wondered aloud before remembering his task ahead. His team was well ahead of him and his CAC was on the other side of the pillar, well into the jungle waiting on him confusion as to what his CO was doing.

"Sir?"

"We'll come back to it later," he shook it off and went back to leading his men as they plowed through the wet forest that quickly soaked them to the bone.

It took about an hour for them to get to where they needed to be, crossing many creeks and crawling under low thick tree branches or over goliath roots that stretched several hundred feet into the air. But so far they'd found nothing in the way of hostiles or signs of their people, or any people for that matter. The team was somewhat winded, but only just so, this was just a warm-up compared to some of the other missions they'd been on.

"Skull Four, this is Skull-One Actual, I have eyes on Target Alpha," Damecles's radio crackled as he pulled out his variable binoculars capable of switching from normal to infrared, to thermal, even ultra-violet modes at times fifteen zoom.

"Roger that," Major Damecles responded, more out of doctrine than anything. He and everyone could see that ship, it was only the biggest thing in the area!

What they saw was a ship that looked more like a metal blob than a sleek warship. Its sides were somewhat ribbed and unnecessarily embroidered. There were no lights on aside from a glint from the nose of the ship that may have been the cockpit or bridge. No weapons appeared visible to the naked eye however, and the ruined buildings around its base covered the bottom half of it where it was landed so they couldn't necessarily get eyes on the entrance to vessel. But it didn't matter, they also had eyes on several individuals through windows and in between the buildings below, if only flashes of them on their thermals. In this weather no one wanted to be out in the rain for an extended period.

"There's a few lights on down there. Their source is in defilade behind those buildings," Damecles said calmly, seeing a glow of light below the ship that must have been where the hatch was open and light from inside was pouring outwards.

"No light discipline," his CAC noted, "No lookouts, nothing to suggest these guys are military."

"No barricades or checkpoints in those ruins either sir," one of the section leaders piped up from next to him.

"Good, an uninterrupted path in. Okay," he said calmly, formulating his plan, "All stations this net, I want our DM's here on overwatch, find a nice spot where they can have an unobstructed view of the ruins. Skull One advance to the southeast corner of town, Two you take northeast, clear each building, knives and suppressed weapons only. We don't want that ship taking off on us with our people."

"Roger that," One replied.

"Skull Two interrogative, do we take prisoners sir?"

"Negative, we can't afford to slow down to take care of that. Once our people are secure then we'll see about taking some of them alive."

That suited them just fine. Missions of this sort had a very clear and simple list of priorities. The first of those superseded all others; save the hostages. And with that the unit proceeded forward as their snipers took up excellent positions right on the tree-line and put their scopes onto a thermal vision setting to clearly distinguish potential targets so they could call them out. When the time came to actually engage they would switch the infrared to positively identify their targets.

The Colonials knew exactly that they were quite vulnerable now that they were out of the treeline and in the open and quickly made their way down the slick slope of the valley to the floor where the first of the traces was placed at the confluence of a large creek that was making enough noise to mask the audible traces of their approach thanks to the influx of rain. The Colonials quickly made their way into the very cold water, the first of them nearly getting swept off his feet by the current that was deceptively powerful.

By now they were using hand signals only, and Major Damecles signaled Skull-1 to cover Skul-2 with a simple hand over his head and pointed to the team moving forward to the six foot high stone terrace that they were starting to carefully maneuver up. The suppressed assault rifles of the Commandoes traced back and forth, aiming for anything threatening their entry as the first of the Colonials made it up the rocks that made up the terrace wall and swept the area with his rifle, seeing nothing but blocks of stone, grass, and small saplings, signaling that the forest was reclaiming this village for itself.

"Clear," the Lieutenant whispered, concerned his hand signal wouldn't be seen.

The rest of his section made it up quickly, joining him against the slicked down mossy and vine covered building whose roof had caved in at the corner of the cobblestone road. Section One followed right behind them, maneuvering to the other side of the road and the Major went right behind them along with his CAC and went with Section One to the southeast corner of town and began making their way into the ruined buildings, which ranged from mostly intact to just a few walls with blocks scattered all over the ground, making the trek through the village rather taxing as each step was wrought with the danger of slipping or knocking over something and making noise.

"Skull-1 Mike," the voice of the first squad's marksman called out on the radio, "Eyes on times two contacts on the other side of your building, moving away."

Then someone tapped the Major as he was covering a side alley as Section One carefully cleared a mostly intact two story building that had a tree growing right through the middle of it. He looked to see the senior most NCO signal with two fingers to his eyes signaling he had eyes on target and then two fingers to indicate two and then held one hand over his arm to indicate they were hostiles.

Damecles carefully maneuvered his way to a position to be able to see. And he saw the two contacts alright, one was wearing a long baggy coat with boots and a wrap around his face and in his hands he held a large staff with bulbous spearhead-like tip with a paddle-like portion on the other end. The second one had an iron helmet over his entire head and a patchwork of armor shimmering in the light of the lantern in his hand and in the other hand was a small staff with two silver prongs on the tip and a sharp point on the rear portion. Both men were chattering in a language the Colonials didn't understand and wobbled out as if under the influence of quite a bit of alcohol or some other sedative-like drug. They were completely unaware of the dangers closing in on them.

From here Damecles could see the obvious lighting coming off of the ship landed now at one hundred and fifty meters away. The two hostiles were stumbling towards it without the slightest hurry despite the continuing rainstorm coming down on top of them with the occasional crash of thunder and flash of lightning. Damecles knew that he had a chance to eliminate two of them right here but decided to follow them.

"Skull-1 Mike hold fire," he ordered quietly, "Check for any other hostiles nearby. All squads continue forward movement."

"Skull-4, Skull-1 Actual, eyes on Target Alpha landing zone. Count three hostiles standing at a large building below the ship."

"Roger that, interrogative, did you engage any targets?" Damaecles asked.

"That's a negative."

"Alright roger that," Damecles said quietly.

"Break, break, break," the radio all of a sudden chirped loudly from the same Captain, "Eyes on hostage, repeat eyes on hostage. One contact is bringing her out of some sort of defilade where the others are standing around. Believe that's where our people are being held."

"Skull Two Mike confirms. One hostile, one hostage, arms appear to be restrained," their other sniper called out.

It was now that Damecles saw the pair making their way down the street towards them. They passed the two drunks and they gave him a shout and a laugh as they passed. The girl was definitely Colonial, she was wearing a shirt with the Picon Astrological University seal. She was quite a pretty little thing, and wasn't that large which made the man dragging her away that much larger. He himself was wearing a long overcoat and a bandana around his head while he held in his free hand an exotic knife with a notch taken out of the point to make two prongs. His face had what could only be described as an evil smile upon it and there was no real guesswork as to what his intention was with this young Colonial.

"No…no please," the Commandoes could now hear her begging desperately only for the man to grab her by her hair and shove her forward, ever closer to the waiting Skulls.

"Sir!" his CAC hissed, the blood fuming anger burning in his voice.

Damecles felt the exact same way, and he was definitely going to let himself fold to this type of rage. He had a daughter just starting high school in a few days and at that moment he saw a girl that could be his own little girl. So the rage for him was that of a vengeful father, even though this girl was not his blood.

So he looked to the two NCO's next to him and pointed to the two of them and then to the enemy and hostage with a movement with one hand around his neck. He then took both hands made a movement across his neck that signaled them to eliminate him in a very specific manner. Each Commando had a thin piece of wire with two steel rods on each end made for a very simple purpose, a purpose they would find use in this night.

The two NCO's looked out at the two approaching them and saw the man shove the girl right into a building just next to them. By now the features on them were quite clear and detailed through their infrared goggles. The man's trench coat was well worn, with several patches woven into it and on his arm they now saw some an almost snake-like object in a holder on his forearm. They saw that he too had a slight wobble in his step. But whether it was a limp or the effects of a long night of drinking or getting high was beyond them. They now heard the sound of chains clinking together but didn't see any chains but were able to guess that the girl was bound with primitive restraints.

The man shoved her inside the small covered building and they were so close by now that they heard the sound of straw crunching beneath what could only have been her falling down. So now the Commandoes took their chance. The lead NCO carefully unwound his wire and held both ends in his hands and stepped out into the alley between the two buildings. He peeked into the building to see the man take off his coat and now heard the girl start whimpering, a prayer to Athena by the sound of it. With that in his mind he and his backup moved quickly around to the entrance to see the man's back turned and the girl on her side below him, her face against the ground and eyes shut tightly.

It happened in a flash from there. The lead NCO crossed his arms before lunging, creating a large loop the target's head would easily fit into and pulled it over his head and yanked his arms, hard. The thin metal wire made contact across his neck, and thanks to its thin construction and the rage-induced force it began cutting into the man's neck. Blood leaked from the ever increasing wounds as he gasped and tried weakly grabbing for what it was that was killing him. But the damage was done, and he slipped from this world after only a few seconds of brutal strangulation.

By now the second Colonial NCO rushed in as the young hostage looked up at hearing the struggle and saw her attempted rapist effectively dying as a man in all black was dragging him down as another man in all black with a rifle in hand. She was just about to scream before the Commando put a finger to her lips.

"Shh…Colonial Commandoes ma'am," he whispered to her as his comrade took out his combat knife for one last measure to be sure the pirate was dead. With that knife he stabbed clean through the man's temple, where the bone of the skull was thinnest, "You're okay now, he's dead."

The girl was now squinting her eyes quite a bit, trying to see exactly who it was that was saving her.

"I-I lost my glasses," she whispered.

"It's okay," the man said as the Major walked in with the CAC.

"Friendlies coming in," he said calmly as he now took a knee next to the girl the sergeant was now bringing up to her knees, "Ma'am I'm Major Damecles, Colonial Special Forces, we're here to rescue you and the rest of the crew and passengers from your ships."

"Thank the Gods," the girl sighed, the tension and fear seeming to melt away as she leaned heavily into the arms of her rescuers.

"I need to ask you some questions alright?" the Major said calmly, getting her to open her eyes and look him the face as he flipped his goggles up and got a nod from her, "How many of bad guys are there?"

"I don't know," she hoarsely whispered, "Maybe twenty."

"Okay that's good," he replied as he continued, "Are there any other hostages in the ship?"

"They took some of the other girls into the ship, they hadn't returned. They've…they…" she started sniffling, trying to hold back tears.

"How many?"

"Seven, eight…I don't know," she stuttered.

"It's okay, no one else is gonna suffer that. I promise."

"They said we'd fetch a nice price. They were going to sell us," she now whispered.

"Not today," the Major growled, and a similar sentiment was echoed by one of the other Commandoes.

"And not ever."

"All stations this net, move to the center of town, time now. Hostage reports that there are at least twenty hostiles in the AO and some of our people are in the ship."

"Roger that, moving."

"Both mikes, get down from overwatch and look after the hostage," he ordered now to their marksmen and then turned to his CAC, "Contact our air cover, if that ship starts taking off they need to know our people might be aboard."

"Roger."

He heard the man start talking on the radio as the section he was with began moving up. He signaled the two other men to move up with the others and he'd look after her. Thankfully the man had fished out an iron key that he'd taken and unlocked the girl's chains and then gave her a drink from a water bottle he'd fished out of his backpack. He'd checked over her for any injuries only to see a couple of bruises and minor cuts as she huddled in a corner, well out of the way.

"Skull-2 we've eliminated two contacts and we're in position," his radio called out.

At that moment he heard movement outside the building.

"Friendlies coming in," he heard from the two snipers who'd pretty much sprinted down to be with them.

"You guys sure double timed it down here," the Major said as both men ducked in, "Alright keep her safe we're going after the other hostages."

"Sir, I've _Host of Hades_ on standby with a Rover dropship to rapidly exfil," his CAC called out as the two of them ran out.

"Excellent, alert them that we'll be making our assault," the Major said, "All squads pick out your targets. Once groundside targets are down we're breaching that ship. Flash only, no explosives, our people are in there."

He got acknowledgements from both Captains who he heard pass it on to their Lieutenants and then ran into the street to where he saw Skull One's Breaching section was in place and could just barely make out their weapons section as well hidden behind a low wall, their lasers pointed at each of the three targets standing around and patrolling. One had one of the smaller staffs with the two points on the end and another had the larger type while a third had a smaller weapon that seemed like a pistol with a cylinder coming to a point along with a large cylinder below it with a red dot on the end. The two roving two hostiles they'd seen first were also standing below where one of guards was standing chatting it up, again in a language they couldn't pick out.

"Skull-1 has targets locked in, ready to take them out."

"Skull-2 are you in position?"

"That's an affirm, want us to breach into the ship?" the Captain asked again after confirming what the Major wanted to hear.

"Alright Skull-1, take them out."

The silenced weapons of the breaching team opened fire, their pops being barely loud enough to hear over the rainstorm. And in the wet conditions the wet clothes and patchwork of armor plates on their targets let loose anywhere from a two to five spouts of water droplets that went flying from the low velocity impacts. They all tumbled down, their bodies just collapsing signaling that each was dead. Then an additional pair of hostiles rushed up from defilade, only to be shot immediately by the Major and the Lieutenant following him.

"Go!" Damecles ordered and the group of Colonials rushed forward at a quick walk with rifles tucked to their shoulders or silenced pistols in their hands as the machine guns weren't able to mount suppressors.

They could now hear talking from what could only have been the hostages and Major Damecles advanced himself online with the rest of Skull One. They quickly summited a mound of ruined blocks and up a few flights of stairs to see a low grassy area shielded from the rain by the ship overhead. Below them were their people, all huddled together in an area that could have been a stadium of some sort for all they knew. He saw one of the hostiles crawling towards his weapon which had rolled down onto a step below him. In the green tinted goggles Damecles saw a trail of blood behind where the pirate had dragged himself. So he walked over and kicked the man onto his side and saw nothing of his face, just a gray cloth wrapped around his face. This just made what he did next that much easier. Because what he did next was that he put two bullets right between his eyes and with the contempt he had with all terrorists and pirates he kicked the lifeless body down the stairs with little effort to the feet of the Colonial hostages.

There were dozens of Colonial civilians here, with their hands chained behind their backs. It might take some time to count them all but by the looks of it Major Damecles was certain that this was at all of them save for the handful of girls that had been taken into the ship.

Speaking of which, Damecles heard a string of suppressed gunshots and turned to see two hostiles tumbling down the ramp into the ship with the whole of Skull Two charging full force into the ship. Loud bangs signaled their breaching and strings of gunshots echoed from within the ship where their suppressors weren't nearly as effective as they were here in the open. He couldn't help himself now, seeing the group of Commandoes sweeping inside with hardly any resistance and no audible return fire.

He flipped his goggles up and ran up the ramp rifle in hand and saw three bodies in the immediate area of the breach. Smoke was settling in a thin dispersing cloud in the tall golden ceilings which matched the extremely oddly crafted walls. They were enormously intricate, having symbols of all shapes aligned in rows along their surface and lighting the area were large golden torches with raging fires lit within them. Boxes with Colonial markings littered the floor, obviously taken from the ships in orbit. And shell casings were scattered everywhere along with more bodies he saw.

These bodies were now quite exotic he saw. Some wore a patchwork of armor. Some had coats or shirts, some had no shirts. There were several what appeared to be weapons laying on the floor next to them along with knives which they may have drawn in the absence of their usual weapons. He counted six so far before he entered what was some sort of mess area.

Two rows of tables with numerous chairs of many different designs and sizes were at both of them which were covered in plates of food leftovers, exotic bottles and glasses, and on one of them the bleeding body of a pirate with a fine white robe which was colored red from the blood seeping from eight bullet holes in his chest. Eight more bodies were laying all over the floor without any weapons nearby, effectively making this an execution.

But what Damecles saw next made him grimly satisfied. A line of nine young women in various states of distress with blankets over their shoulders were being led out quite quickly by two Commandoes whose eyes met the Major's and he could see the rage still burning in their eyes. He gave them a nod as they passed and then moved to the arching doorway to where he saw one of his men holding three of these bastards on their knees with their hands on their heads against the wall. Each was whimpering and whispering, in a very similar state as their first hostage had been in.

"They ran from that mess hall before they surrendered sir," the man said, "We think at least two more of them have barricaded themselves in the bridge."

"Where?"

"Up those stairs sir, Bravo's setting a charge to dislodge them now."

"Very well," Damecles responded and started walking off and saw that his CAC had joined him, "Lieutenant tie their hands and secure them. If they move, shoot 'em."

"I hope you frakkers try it," the man said grimly as he wrenched one's hands behind his back, "Come on try it!" he then yelled into one's ear only to get what could only have been begging from his prisoner in return.

"Don't worry," the Lieutenant said calmly as he took plastic ties and yanked them tight on their wrists, "Remember we've got Admiral Cain up there."

"Oh yeah…you're dead shit you know that?!" the NCO yelled into another's ear after pulling him back by the hair, "You may think we're bad just wait until the Admiral has you shot out of a Viper tube!"

The Major ignored the man taking his pleasure in torturing their prisoners. Truth be told he wanted to just shoot them, but that decision now that the situation was just about secure was beyond his pay grade. And he was certain that Admiral Cain would be rather cross if she didn't do the deed herself to at least one of them after she got the debriefing. There was no doubt in his mind that these pirates were dead one way or another.

Location: Unknown Planet, Mountain Mesa

Recon One had decided not to follow the advice of the alien. There was a great deal of argument about it but in the end Colonel Black had said they were staying. From what the away team led by Agent Fraser had reported both creatures were quite technologically advanced. One had a shield of some sort that even blocked their twenty-millimeter rockets. And the other had a weapon that breached that shield. So the next obvious course of action was to find where it had been making its camp and see if it left any goodies behind. And there was one obvious place to go looking.

Colonel Black had led the other half of the military contingent up the mesa, looking for a cave or camp of some sort. He'd brought along both of his tech experts, Dr. Cruz and Dr. Wimmer, to help out while he left the rest of the civilians and the rather brutalized members of Squad One back at basecamp. His team hadn't needed to go very far up the steep slope of the mesa before they came upon a sign they were close, and a pungent sign it was.

"Now that frakking stinks," one of his troops grumbled lowly as the Colonials made their way up the slope.

"We're close," Gunney Bradley said calmly, pulling the charging handle of his SAW back to load a fresh round.

"There," Colonel Black declared, "That overhang's no overhang. There's a cave."

"Makes sense that a furry creature would shelter there. It's well within reach of water and food," Dr. Cruz noted as he adeptly jumped across a slight gorge, standing straight up far more comfortably than the rest of the troops.

"Get down Doc," Black said waving him back as he noticed how exposed he was.

"If there were another creature we would know it by now," the techie responded calmly.

"Just let us lead," one of the troops said as Cruz helped his much less athletic assistant across.

"Fine by me, just don't touch anything without me being there."

"Wait for us to tell you to come in," Lieutenant Bragg ordered the man as the Colonials started getting close.

Black shook his head, wondering at how immune to the dangers this man was. He now lead the way up a much less steep incline that led to the tall but thin opening into the cave. And once inside the full force of that musky odor hit him full on. It was surprisingly well lit by a small hole in the ceiling that showed them just what was inside.

"Jackpot!" Lieutenant Bragg called out as she followed the Colonel inside, seeing the many different objects scattered along the walls of the medium sized cave.

The cave was well used, and the stench and well established campfire in the middle of the floor was evidence of that. Stacked against the walls were several different sized and shaped staffs. Some had bulbous ends and were at least five or six feet long. There were a couple shorter versions and other types that had two prongs on one end colored in silver. There were also gold trinkets with red jewels on them of all sorts of shapes and sizes. There were silver balls, small gold balls, and each of them intricately embellished. And there were also many other types of things along with many golden and silver coins in neat stacks all over the walls in dug out hollows.

"Don't touch anything, it might kill you," Cruz butted in grabbing both her and Colonel Black as he entered.

"What did we just tell you?" Black snapped.

"If I'd stayed out there one of you could be dead. Curiosity has a habit of being deadly. Fortunately I'm here."

"And what's to stop this stuff from killing you?"

"Well," the man said calmly, snapping on a pair of latex gloves, "I have a great many pieces of paper called degrees that say I'm a qualified scientist."

Lieutenant Bragg audibly scoffed at him as he now pulled out a Geiger Counter and started sweeping back and forth. The device clicked audibly, but nothing to suggest that it was reaching anywhere close to dangerous levels in the vicinity. By now Dr. Wimmer had also entered the cave and Dr. Cruz took the case she had been carrying and then opened it beside the one he'd taken his Geiger Counter out of.

"Go ahead and collect a few of these coins after you put on some gloves," he instructed his young assistant.

"I'm gonna test for an electric current before I touch them," she said, pulling out the device in question and plugged in the insulated cord.

"Gold doesn't conduct electricity, does it?" Bragg asked, crouching down next to her as she started cautiously tapping the coins.

"Who said they're made of gold?" Dr. Wimmer calmly said quietly as she continued.

After checking to be sure that they were perfectly safe to touch she reached out and picked up a coin. But as she did that a loud electrical whooshing sound sounded out and a sudden blast of heat flashed in front of them. Then as soon as that happened a cloud of dust exploded outwards as it hit the sandstone cave wall. They all turned to see Dr. Cruz holding one of the taller staffs with a its end spread out into quarters and then aimed right at the wall in front of them.

"Hmm…interesting," the young man said with an intrigued tone and then aimed the weapon again, this time further away from everyone.

But Colonel Black yanked it away before he could do anything else.

"Do that again I'll aim it at you."

"Like I said, these things are dangerous."

Alright, finally. This one is a ton longer than any other chapter before it. Once I got going on that Colonial rescue mission I couldn't stop. And it turned out great, so what do you guys think?

Next Chapter Preview: The Colonials have their revenge, but have enraged a new enemy, an enemy that has no idea what they're in for.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Location: P5X-359

Date: February 8, 2025

Time: 0715

Colonel O'Neill was, to say the least, very much unhappy with his techies. The fact that an Al'Kesh had just been sitting there five miles away without their detecting it hadn't been a vote of confidence for either Dr. Underwood or Captain Hailey. And he let them know it.

"So explain something to me, did you happen to have even thought of scanning the local five miles around us for lifesigns or technology? I'm pretty sure that fancy scanner out there is up to the job," O'Neill asked the two of them as they packed their MALP's to be ready to evacuate in the event that the Colonials noticed their presence.

"Colonel, it's an orbital and atmospheric scanner, it's designed to record observations of what's in orbit. We have another one for scanning around us that we were going to set up but then we picked up those ships in orbit and you'll excuse me if that seemed so much more pressing!" the man said as he hurriedly put his items into their boxes and then onto the MALP, exhausting himself.

"With respect sir," Hailey piped up, "Experience has shown that attacks from orbit are far more potentially devastating and protocol dictates that we scan for threats overhead first after securing our immediate perimeter."

Hailey was correct, SG Teams followed a careful protocol when it came to setting up their scanning equipment and securing the safety of their camps. First the SG/S Team secured the area for several hundred meters in all directions checking for signs of habitation nearby from any vantage point they could get. As they did that the civilian team was supposed to get the two types of scanners that checked farther out for life signs, orbital and atmospheric anomalies, and any ships in orbit. In the past the most devastating battles that the SGC had fought had precipitated because ships in orbit had attacked with a large amount of forces. Battles that had occurred from ground forces attacking had usually been beaten back due to the relative even ground on which they fought one another. But against ships like Al'Kesh and Death Gliders versus lightly armed infantry things never ended well. So protocol dictated that the teams check to see what's above them because they could at least do something about what was on the ground.

But of course, like anything new or untested, there were teething problems, plans didn't necessarily work out the way they should, and SG-1 was encountering these problems. The weather had necessitated that the team get their tents up for shelter before they got their scanners set up and the downpour had limited visibility for the long range along with the pitch black. Shit happens as they say. But it was not the end of the world in the least.

"Colonel," Captain Blanton said calmly, "There's no reason to assume the Colonials have even noticed us. They've clearly been more interested in that Al'Kesh and their radio chatter hasn't even suggested that they've detected our camp or the Stargate. The troops that are moving towards it have maintained radio silence."

"What is the Al'Kesh doing here in the first place? And why are the Colonials going after it?" Dr. Tew asked as the group walked into the still erect tent.

"The two civilian ships," Brenda Jackson noted, "They don't have life signs aboard. And we've detected, what nearly two hundred life signs near that ship?"

"Close to it," Hailey responded.

"It's a rescue mission," Brenda declared, "They must be some sort of pirates that found the Colonial ships, raided them and took the people hostage."

"Seems like something the Lucians would do," Blanton suggested."

"No," Brenda responded, "The Lucians don't operate this far out. They'd have to get through a lot of Jaffa controlled territory first. The only people who are out here that we know of are the Colonials and us."

"And how would you know that the Colonials operate this far out?" O'Neill asked.

"Because I asked for this planet remember? I wanted to see if the Colonials really were expanding their operations since we broke contact."

"You knew that they were out here?!" Underwood gasped.

"No, the intel said they weren't out this far but I was hoping we'd detect an exploration party of civilians. I didn't think the Colonials would be launching an operation after being on the receiving end of a pirate raid," Brenda explained.

"And you didn't think to inform us?" O'Neill replied, absolutely dumbstruck by this woman's explanation.

"You saw the map and read the reports Colonel," Brenda responded, "We all agreed the risk was negligible at best."

"Sir?" Hailey asked, not quite sure what to believe.

"It was a remote possibility at best. The Colonials haven't moved beyond their established space and their nearest planets are a ways off. Our latest scans had shown that they had no ships in range of this planet or even moving to it."

"Well they're here," Dr. Tew grumbled as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Which means we need to be ready to get the hell out of here ourselves right?" Underwood responded.

"No, the Stargate activating would give our position away," O'Neill replied.

"He's right, even with their tech the Colonials would see clear as day," Hailey replied.

"And they've got air assets on standby to support that ground team of theirs moving on the Al'Kesh. They'd be on us real quick."

"Not to mention we might spoil their rescue mission," Brenda said back before continuing, "But like I said before there is another option here."

"We can't contact them, not like this anyway," O'Neill snapped once more.

"Why not?" Brenda scoffed, "This could be just the scenario we need. We could offer assistance in their rescue, they could only receive that kind of offer positively."

"Protocol states that any contact with the Colonials is to be done on equal terms, ship to ship, or man-to-man," O'Neill said back.

"Since when were you one for protocol?"

"Since the stakes were raised."

"If I may interject," Dr. Bruce Walt, their cultural expert, piped up from where he'd been carefully listening to the conversation, "The protocol exists for good reason we all agree. But not even we can predict all encounter scenarios. Sometimes, and you should this very well Jack, chance has its joker slipped into the deck. This is our joker. Do we play it or fold?"

"Assisting a rescue mission puts us on the moral high ground," Captain Blanton noted, getting a nod from O'Neill.

"I don't dispute that," O'Neill responded, getting some raised eye brows from the others, "We can be ready to assist if they need help. Those Colonials don't know who they're facing. We can expect that. So we can't assume that they'll just welcome us at face value."

"Well," Brenda said calmly, "If we're going to go we need to go now."

"We?" O'Neill responded, putting his hands on his hips.

"Yes we. I have more hands-on experience with them than any of you and I'm a trained diplomat and a black belt in karate."

"Brenda you got that in eighth grade," Underwood laughed, knowing her a bit too well.

"Still counts," the blonde said pointing a finger at him to shut up.

"And they're combat veterans with some things called guns," O'Neill piped up and pointed at his rifle, "Like this, this kills more people than karate."

"Isn't that why you're here?" Brenda chirped knowingly, challenging O'Neill's ego.

"And it's why you're wearing that," O'Neill now replied by pointing at her armor.

"So I'm going?" she straight asked and got a slight hesitation from O'Neill before he responded.

"Yeah but I will do what I have to keep this team safe."

"We may want to break camp then," Blanton said, "If things go sideways we won't have the luxury of time to stow our gear and get it through the gate."

"There's a good-sized cave uphill from the gate that Dr. Lopez was checking out before this all happened. It's easily large enough to move our equipment into it and concealing us as well. Not to mention dry."

"Sounds good," O'Neill said, "Dr. Walt can you handle the civilian team while we're away?"

"Certainly," the man replied, knowing that he wasn't in good enough shape or a good enough fighter to go with the military portion of the team along with their team leader.

"Excellent, Underwood, keep the scanners operational and keep us apprised of incoming aircraft and their troops' positions," Blanton told their tech expert.

"I'll be on the ground scanner Ruby will keep an eye on the skies," Underwood proclaimed, "We're in business now baby. This is what SG Teams are supposed to do."

"You won't be our constant voice in our heads for the ground-side element. Patch the feed to our HUD and we can see them through the weather and terrain. But keep us apprised of their orbital and air assets," Blanton commanded.

"Or we can do that," Ruby huffed along with Underwood, very much wanting to be a part of the action.

"So you guys keep an eye on that sky."

"Speaking of the skies the storm is starting to let up," O'Neill noted, hearing the roar of the rain dropping off slightly as the wind died off leaving a constant downpour in its stead.

"We'll need to detach at least two of us to protect the civilians," Blanton suggested, getting a nod from O'Neill.

"I agree, Captain Pauley's got that ankle twinged so he's a no brainer for me. And…Lieutenant Baird can stay put. He's a demo man, so I don't think we'll need to blow shit up," O'Neill stated, picking out his two rear guards to keep an eye on their civilians.

"They'll work," Brenda nodded in agreement, "I think my people are scared of Lieutenant Baird."

"Probably should be, he was Army EOD and then an Airborne Ranger, in a word, he's insane," Blanton grinned, knowing the Lieutenant in question was absolutely fearless and quite intimidating, although it was only his way of entertaining himself.

"I suspected that," Dr. Catherine Lawson mused as she overheard that.

"Well he's not quite insane enough to worry about. Mostly he has no fear of anything, or anyone."

"Alright Doc, get everything stowed away, everyone into the cave, and wait for us to return. If you're compromised get back to the SGC, don't worry about us we can set off a beacon for a ship to pick us up if things go south."

"Good luck Colonel, you'll need it."

"SG-1's already got luck sewn into its genes."

"I do hope so."

"Pauley, Baird, you're on rear guard, watch the civilians until we get back. If you're compromised return to base immediately."

"Roger that," the captain in question responded from outside.

O'Neill could just barely make out Lieutenant Baird voicing his displeasure at having to stay on babysitting duty but ignored it. He couldn't blame the guy, not being allowed to go out with the rest of your team mates is not the most gratifying of duties. But orders were orders, not much a subordinate officer can do once they're given aside from follow them.

"SG-1, on me, we're gonna follow this ridgeline down to an overwatch position on the Colonial AO. If their op goes bad we'll step in and help them out," O'Neill explained on the radio, letting his team know what it was that they were doing at this time.

"Sounds good Colonel, this mission was needing some excitement," Major Rosario called out on the radio with a laugh.

"It was wasn't it?" O'Neill said calmly, in complete agreement with his third in command.

"Alright, you've got the feed from our sensors on your HUD's now Colonel," Ruby said calmly as the feed showing the twenty yellow dots marked as Colonial appeared on their HUD's.

"And I'm not reading any change in the Colonials' fleet in orbit. Looks like they're blind as bats to us being here."

"You know, bats technically speaking aren't blind," the voice of Dr. White called out on the radio, wanting to set the record straight seeing as the saying itself was false entirely and he knew better.

"Yeah I know," Underwood responded.

"Then why say it?"

"It's a saying you don't argue with culture."

"Underwood, White," the voice of Lieutenant Baird called out, "Do me a favor will ya?"

"Yeah?"

"Shutup."

Location: Terra Nova, Fort Carter MTP

The students and professors had been at it for several hours now. Their schedule dictated that their only real breaks would come at lunch with some default breaks whenever they were stopping to examine something on their trek. And so far, to their immense credit, they had stuck to it far more rigidly than any plan Sergeant Hanson had been part of in his time in the military. Then again, plans in the military rarely make it past the first part of an operation.

At the moment the students were spread out in a clearing that the troops nicknamed "Super Clearings" that were situated right below the enormous trees that were simply known as Supergiant Bluewoods. The massive trees were thirty meters wide at their thickest point and stretched upwards well over eight hundred feet with enormous branches sprouting off in all directions to form a massive umbrella that could fit a football stadium comfortably inside. Their roots were as thick as many trees, and spread out in all directions, stabilizing the tree's massive bulk from the very windy conditions that the mountain forests of Terra Nova experienced every so often. These trees were common, with one being present in full size every four or five miles.

But this one was well known to the faculty of TNU, as every time they came here new species of animals, birds, and insects were discovered. At the moment though, the group was looking to see one species in particular, the Bat Eagle. It was a large bird of prey that only roosted in the giant trees and when hunting would hang upside down and scan the ground, looking to grab anything that it could get its large claws around. And it would do this with its own life partner, seamlessly hunting as a coordinated pair.

The group of thirty students and a half dozen professors was currently spread out with cameras and binoculars looking into the tree, trying to find the large dark green feathered birds. But their camouflage was very well conceived, and it was very difficult.

"Doc," Sergeant Hanson whispered to the head professor, "How much longer do you intend to stay?"

"Give us another thirty minutes, then we'll go to the river to obtain some specimens."

"That's two miles to the river, you think your kids here can get there alright? I know at least two of them have sprained their ankles and the rest are very tired," Hanson noted.

"The terrain is all downhill and it's much smoother than what we've already done."

"Okay, your call."

Jason walked towards the three troops of Fireteam Alpha, made up of Corporal Lily McFierce who was in charge of Blue Team which was her and PFC Stephanie Powers, who carried the Alpha's M-506 Squad Automatic Weapon, which was basically an M-501 Assault Rifle but with a heavier barrel, large drum magazines, a different more heat resistant receiver, and a bipod. The final individual in Alpha and the other half of Red Team was PFC Douglas Lee, who had a grenade launcher slung underneath his assault rifle. Fireteam Bravo was commanded by Sergeant Richard Kirkham, and he had Corporal Graves in command of Red Team, PFC Waters as their automatic rifleman, and PFC Smith as their grenadier. Lastly there was Fireteam Charlie under the command of Sergeant Tess, Corporal Hawkins as their automatic rifleman and Red Team leader, PFC Filmore as their grenadier, and PFC Turgeoues as the squad Designated Marksman, carrying another modified assault rifle with a longer barrel and a long range scope able to see in thermal and infrared modes.

Each weapon was a variant of the M-501 Modular Assault Rifle. It was an American designed weapons system that had incredible flexibility in the field. There were variants, barrel changes, stock changes, rails for additions, and three types of receivers for changing their rifles' specialties. This was something that its predecessor from which it took its outwards looks, had pioneered, the XM8. There were dozens of rifles that the EDF could have chosen to mimic, but the XM8 had won out in the end due to its futuristic look, ease of manufacture, and overall flexibility. This made it the mainstay of the EDF ground troops, SG Teams, and shipborne security personnel. And every single member of Hanson's squad had some form of this weapon in hand.

All of these troops had been walking around with their weapons either slung over their shoulders. Sometimes they'd have to chase down a student or group that hadn't gotten the message to keep moving or was trying to get a close look at something just off of the trail. But beyond that their rifles, machine guns, and single marksman rifle hadn't come close to even having the safeties off. The only excitement they'd had was when some monkeys had started throwing fruits and feces at the passing column and Fireteam Charlie had to hold back one of the students from tossing rocks back at them after she'd been hit in the head by a particularly unpleasant monkey's crap.

"Well boss?" Powers asked as she sat on a root next to McFierce and Lee.

"They really want to see this bird. Another half hour here before we head to the Green River."

"Green River?" Lee asked, "That's a bit of a stretch for them isn't it?"

"They say they can handle it," Jason replied as he sat down, "And we've still got six hours until their time's up."

"Yeah plenty of time," Powers responded with a nod, herself looking for the bird of prey that the civilians were after through her range finder she'd dug out of her pack.

"Any word on the wargames?" Hanson asked McFierce, whom he'd asked to listen into the radio frequencies to see how their operations were going.

"Not great, pretty much a stalemate. The major's trying to get Bravo, Charlie, and Echo reorganized. They're down to a third strength and aren't really combat effective. Alpha's trying to sweep Laketown right now with Delta in overwatch."

Laketown was a mid-sized town that was situated on a lake and made of modular buildings that had the ability to have walls and doors moved around along with whole floors able to be added or taken out by engineers. This was so that the simulation town was always something new to the units who participated in the numerous urban combat drills that the place hosted. The building units were housed underground, out of sight within a massive garage with all styles of buildings and walls and windows ranging from modern to ancient.

"What's Laketown's setup this time?" Powers asked, not bothering to look from her range finder.

"No idea," McFierce responded, "But those buggers are having a rough time with it."

"Oh there we go," Powers chirped, "two-five-zero, three hundred twenty-one meters."

Several students that had been listening to their conversation and then when they heard that one of their number had seen their eagle word spread very quickly. The many students were zooming in with cameras and binoculars and everyone started watching with a great deal of interest. They were now buzzing now that they saw not one, but two Bat Eagles, both hanging upside down from a thin branch, facing opposite ways as they scanned the ground for prey and the skies for rivals. A green and brown knot of sticks and leaves on a thick fork in the branches was their nest that was on the same branch the two birds were hanging from.

"Okay they've seen them," Jason said calmly, looking at the birds himself, "Wonder how long they'll want to stay and watch?"

"At least until they do something. We might be the first people to actually see them in the act of hunting," Lee responded to him.

"Yeah that might be kinda cool," Jason replied, "Girls you may want to look away when that happens."

"Fuck you sarge," Powers laughed, tossing a stick that bounced off his hat.

"Is that an invitation?" Hanson said with mock interest.

"When pigs fly!" Powers again said with a laugh as she kicked him in the shoulder lightly.

"Alright it's a date."

A lighthearted scoff from the young Australian brunette responded to him as the fake flirting that had occurred innumerable times brought the group some humor to their so far boring assignment. With so many women now in the EDF ranging from pilots and technicians to front-line troops sexual humor was now the norm. And this kind of humor, whenever it didn't go too far, brought units close in terms of the comradery that people of their profession needed to survive. And it really made time fly by.

"Oh there it goes," Lee called out, following one of the eagles as it dropped straight down from the extraordinary height of its perch. A wave of excitement followed the bird's drop as it screamed downwards to the right of Jason and his team where there weren't any students and where they had seen a troop of Red Baboons, a small primate that was very similar in appearance to African Baboons aside from the fluffy tails and bright red manes on the males but half as large. The screeching of the baboons sounded out as the eagle went down out of sight and was followed shortly after by its mate as both apparently had stirred up the troop.

"Oh no!" one of the girls in the group of students in front of the fire team cried out, seeing both eagles flapping straight upwards with an adult female baboon in their talons, limp from having its spine cut by the powerful beaks of the eagles.

There was a mixture of sorrow and joy at the successful hunt of the pair of eagles and apparently someone had filmed it all, including the kill itself on the ground. This student was quite proud of himself, and didn't seem to be of the same mind as the three girls he was with who seemed to feel more sorry for the primate that was now a meal for the birds that had by now reached their nest.

"Okay, they've gotten their footage of the eagles, let's see if he wants to stay to see them eat the thing," Jason asked, getting up from his spot that he'd just gotten comfortable in.

He now saw that the students were starting to get up from where they'd been sitting around, stretching and putting away water and Gatorade bottles and anything else that might impede their travel.

"Sergeant we're heading out again," one of the professors called out, heading him off before he could ask.

"Alright," he said with a thumbs-up to be sure they woman knew he got the message before getting on the radio again, "Three-two we're moving out again. Same pattern, make sure we've got no stragglers."

He stood off to the side as some of the students walked by and he felt something. The ground seemed to be trembling slightly. He could see leaves start falling in the hundreds from the large tree above them as the waves of the slight earthquake reverberated up the tree. Several cracks opened up as the group stalled in fright and surprise. Earthquakes weren't uncommon in this part of Terra Nova, but they did happen. But usually the epicenter was far away, and the trembling was hardly able to be registered by scientific instruments. It was a slight oversight by the people who'd chosen this part of Terra Nova for the flagship capital of the new colony, but for the last few years it hadn't been an issue in the least.

But today seemed to be a unique occurrence, as the cracks that opened up then started to sink and expand below the feet of several students and Hanson himself. He then snapped into action.

"Get on the roots!" he yelled, tightening his grip on his rifle out of sheer instinct.

The three students who'd been in the most danger hesitated, themselves in shock, like deer in the headlights. But then all three of them snapped into action, scrambling onto a tall buttress-like root covered in vines like everyone else. But one of the girls seemed to be having a bit of trouble. Her foot was caught within a crack that had snagged a hold of her hiking boot as vines and smaller roots were twisted in the chaos of the odd phenomenon that was occurring beneath them. So the young staff sergeant rushed forward, tossing his rifle to his side and kneeled down next to the young brunette as she tugged desperately as the ground now sunk ever deeper as the ground fractured and the cracks grew ever larger, creating a mess of roots from all the plants that were now exposed.

"Jason!" he heard of to the side as McFierce and Fireteam Alpha rushed to see what was happening.

"Stay back!" he commanded them, seeing the effect that was now a rapidly forming sinkhole start expanding outwards, causing more civilians to start scrambling away, desperate to try and help in any way they could from tossing vines to even just verbal support.

"Call for support!" McFierce ordered as she turned to the civilians, "Stay off of the ground! Move back!"

"I'm almost…" the girl desperately groaned as Hanson dug at the soil and clay with his hands, and then finally with her and he pulling managed to yank her foot free.

"Run!" he snapped as the ground seemed to just give way to one side.

Like a board pivoting on one end the blocks of earth dropped to Hanson's right as he and the girl he now recognized the one from the Hyena who'd taken a tumble ran towards a root, which was still in solid position. The two of them tried balancing but the dirt just dropped from beneath them, taking the two of them with it. It then began to flow as if it were on a conveyor belt, and the light of day seemed to just disappear and the two of them were plunged into darkness as if a sheet had been pulled over their heads. He heard her screaming some awful profane words as they fell down on top of the tumbling and crumbling earth on with enough speed and at such an angle that they both felt like they had gravity turned off.

Then their trip seemed to end as the dirt slammed hard into flat ground and the audible noise of splashing let them know that they'd hit water of some sort before they were catapulted into the air and then splashed into the water. Neither of the two knew what had happened, but the water they'd landed in was warm and was deep with a swift current pulling them away to the right as they tried keeping upright. But soon it was calm enough that Hanson grabbed for his rifle and the flashlight he had on it and turned it on, bathing the now mucky water in an orange light. But he then brought his rifle out of the water and saw that the edge of the underground river was just next to them a few yards to his left and he also saw the girl right next to him coughing and sputtering as she tried staying afloat as debris bracketed them.

"Swim to the edge!" he ordered, and began kicking over, buoyed by the air in his waterproof backpack.

"Okay!" he heard her respond, surprised that she was even able to hear him.

The two of them were forced downstream for quite a ways before the current slowed to a crawl and they finally reached the muddy shore. The feeling of solid ground beneath them was a welcome reprieve and both of them collapsed onto it once free of the water they'd been fighting. Their ordeal within the sinkhole hadn't been all that long, lasting maybe a minute or two before they'd been plunged into this river beneath the surface. The only light they had was the flashlight shining up into the towering ceiling as both soldier and civilian gasped for breath and recovered before Hanson got his senses.

"You alright?" he asked as he got to one knee and shine his light over to where he heard her breathing.

She was on her hands and knees catching her breath. Her shirt, shorts, shoes, backpack, and long brunette hair were absolutely soaked and her arms, legs, and shoes were covered in dark brown sticky mud. Much of her clothes and even her backpack were also sprayed with mud weighing every part of her down. But Jason could tell he was no better off just by feeling the water soaking through his uniform and feeling his armored plates and checking to be sure nothing had fallen out of his clip-on pockets that held his ammo and equipment.

"Yeah, I…I think so," she sighed, feeling herself for any cuts, sprains, or breaks.

"You sure? We're lucky to be alive," Hanson said, regaining some composure and now felt the enormity of what sort of natural process they'd just survived.

"I'm pretty sure. Nothing hurts, but…what happened?"

"Sinkhole, there's miles of caves that sometimes collapse after earthquakes but no one's ever been in one," Jason replied as he stood up and fished out a pair of green chemical lights from a pocket on his thigh.

"We must be hundreds of feet below the surface then," the girl replied.

"More than likely," Jason concluded as he cracked and shook the lights and handed both to her, "Clip this to your backpack. It'll glow for several hours and I've got a few more."

"Thanks," the young student said as she wound the open end of the chem light to a carabiner on her backpack.

"Let's get out of the mud and find some solid ground," Jason suggested, pointing his rifle further away from the underground river.

"Yeah…I don't wanna wait for rescue sitting in this mud," the girl tried to chuckle, attempting to make some light of the situation.

"Yeah, me neither," Jason grumbled as he walked forward, the loud squishing his boots made in the mud audible even over the rippling of the now calming current behind them.

The duo saw, with the invaluable aid of the flashlight on Jason's M-501, a huge expanse of rocky cavern in front of them, stalagmites and stalagtites creating a scene like a great toothy monster were in front of them. Drips from all of these creations made it look as if it were raining there were so many of them, and several small runoffs of crystal clear water ran through the rocky formations to fall into the muddy banks and add their miniscule amount of water to the torrent behind them. Some of these formations were enormous, being bigger around than a man, and others hanging from both the ceiling and their larger cousins were as thin as pencils and drooped down dozens of feet, sometimes connecting with their opposites rising from the floor. The shadows that the great formations cast as the flashlight swung back and forth in concert with the pair of green chem lights seemed to dance about the walls and upon one another as they walked forward. It sort of took their breath away to see it, but not for too long, and Jason couldn't help but break the silence.

"What's your name anyway?"

"Huh what?" she replied, somewhat distracted.

"Your name, got one or what?"

"Hannah," she replied, looking over to the left of where Jason was searching with his flashlight, using the second chem light to fight back the darkness as she looked at something that had caught her eye.

"Hannah huh?" he asked with veiled interest, "Well you can call me Jason. You ever think that you'd end up in a situation like this today?"

"Not really," she said as her feet finally made contact with solid rock beneath her feet and she flashed her chem light below to see the glistening of the wet limestone beneath her feet, tracking muddy boot prints with every step.

"Coast is clear," Jason said, walking back over to her, and pulled back on his pack where he had his helmet still tied on, "I'm gonna get on my helmet radio, see if I can get any signal down here and try and call for help. My squad has probably already made the mayday but we need to get word to them ourselves. I lost my other one in the fall along with my cap."

"No argument from me," Hannah asked as she began to look at the area they'd found themselves within. As she did that Jason was strapping on his helmet and switched it on, "I just want to get out of here and go back to my nice soft bed."

"Hannah, don't go too far," Jason whispered, looking straight up at the roof of the cavern, "Odd as it may sound but not even the military has any idea what's down here."

"Terra Nova's great guardians don't know something? Isn't that a first?" she chuckled as she began circling around them, her curiosity taking hold.

"We don't even know everything about Earth's cave networks, much less a planet we've only been on for six or seven years."

"Which means we're doing some real trail blazing huh?"

"It won't matter if we don't make it out of here. So take a load off while I try and contact the surface," Jason said, tuning to frequency sixty-six, the emergency channel used in desperate times, "Mayday, mayday, mayday, this is Delta Three-Two Actual broadcasting on frequency six-six how copy over."

There was a moment of silence before the reply came in, oddly loud and clear.

"Delta Three-Two Actual, this is Angel responding to your mayday over."

"Thank god," Hanson breathed in relief, and saw Hannah relax as she sighed in equal relief, "Angel this Three-Two I've got one civilian with me, situation is green, repeat we are green. We need extract, over."

"Copy Three-Two. Be advised rescue is oscar mike and deep sweep scans are mapping the caves for a possible route for you to effect self-rescue and meet up with your extraction."

"Roger that Angel," Hanson responded, "Interrogative, what is Delta Three-Two's status?"

"Three-Two is up and escorting civilians back to base, no civilian casualties."

"Copy that Angel, no casualties. Awaiting orders for rendezvous with rescue party."

"Stand by Three-Two," the man on the other end of the radio replied.

"Standing by Angel."

"Three…be…did…your…" the radio all of a sudden started to act funny as the signal began to cut out into static.

"Angel, be advised you're breaking up, please repeat your last," Jason snapped immediately, his heart dropping to his stomach as he began losing all signal.

As he'd been talking with the emergency frequency operator Hannah had been listening, paying close attention to what Hanson was saying and trying to put together what may have been said to him as she herself couldn't hear the radio in his headsets within his helmet. But then something got her attention, a scratching noise within the stalagmite and stalactite forest to their right.

"Hey uh…Jason, you hear something?" she asked him, squinting her eyes towards the source of the sounds.

He stood up, looking up towards the sounds himself, and then saw a flash of white sweep in between a pair of stalagmites well out in front of them. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he yanked the action back on his rifle and thumbed the safety off and switched on his laser.

"Stay behind me," he whispered, trying again with the radio, "Angel this is Three-Two, situation red, we need extract right fucking now."

Nothing but static was the response.

"Oh fuck," he growled through grinding teeth as he carefully swept his rifle back and forth as he backed away from the labyrinth of limestone spires.

"Please tell me someone's coming for us?" Hannah begged as she held her chem light out, trying to see what it was that was stalking them.

"Rescue's on the way but we lost signal. We're on our own for now," he responded as he aimed his rifle with his finger now over the trigger, "Take this," he commanded her, yanking his K-Bar from its sheath on his left upper chest plate.

Hannah gingerly took the titanium steel blade and stayed ever closer to him as he now spotted a branching cavern that seemed to go uphill off to their left. He pointed to it and guided her in that direction as the creatures in the dark continued to scuttle back and forth, just out of reach of their lights. But the moment that they reached the eight foot tall entrance to the branching cave one of these creatures exposed itself, rushing into the light a mere twenty feet from them.

It was bleach white from a lifetime in the dark, its eyes didn't even exist, and its body was basically that of a large tarantula with eight large hairy legs as thick around as a child's arm. Two large pink fangs dripped oozing green venom as it side-stepped back forth, hissing lowly as Jason backed away, keeping himself between Hannah and this creature. This spider was huge, being as large as a big dog, and more hissing was able to be heard behind it as the lighter shadows of other such spiders emerged.

"Oh my God," Hannah breathed in fear, her voice trembling as she clutched the knife in one hand.

"Keep moving away," Jason hissed, debating whether or not to start shooting.

"Just shoot them!" Hannah begged as they began to make their way up the rocks.

"We don't know what they'll do if I try killing them."

"Well I can guess what they'll do if you don't!"

Hannah had slightly raised her voice at that, and this seemed to be the trigger for these creatures. The one in front of them leaped into the air, aiming right at them. Jason was left with no choice, he pulled the trigger and hit the white abdomen of the spider with a single bullet, fracturing and splitting the creature's hindquarters into a shower of purple gore as it snapped backwards and fell with a wet flop and tumbled down onto its back. Its legs weakly flailed in the air as it screeched in pain, only for several of its identical comrades to instinctively fall upon it in its weakened states, and begin cannibalistically gorging themselves on the still writhing beast.

"Go!" Hanson hissed seeing more starting to emerge from the shadows to take part in the feast.

Both of them turned and began to scramble up the rocks, working their way up, hoping that their path would lead them to the surface. Jason turned back as they reached the end of the sharp rise and aimed his rifle back down, getting hisses from five or six more creatures that were working their way up in pursuit of them. He aimed and fired at one of them, shattering its eyeless face with three shots, causing it to tumble down the slope, only for one or two other spiders to start feasting upon it as more spiders started up in pursuit of them. He aimed again, and picked off another pair of spiders, and the rest began pausing, not exactly sure if they wanted to pursue a prey item that had proven to be far deadlier than anything normally found in these caves. Or so he thought.

But Hanson made certain they got the message, and fired off several more rounds, wounding two more spiders and killing another one that fell against a column and turned and ran after Hannah who was moving up a spiraling route towards another cave entrance thirty feet above her. Hanson saw a single spider crawling along the wall behind her and she didn't even see it, being busy with negotiating the tough upwards ascent. But he fired once, striking dead center in the large abdomen of the spider, making it fall right off of the wall face, mere feet behind Hannah who ducked down at the loud snapping of the bullet passing over her head.

"We need to keep moving," he ordered her as he joined her and led the way forward.

"And go where?!" she snapped.

"Anywhere but here!"

They kept going up, knowing that in a cave salvation is up, not down like it is in normal survival situations. But as they entered another stretch of cave they passed into an unseen and unknown zone. One that caused the spiders pursuing them to stop in their tracks, years of instinct telling them what lay beyond an energy field their animal senses could detect but the humans of Terra Nova had yet to discover. Within this field lay an untouched and abandoned place that hadn't awoken in many years, but with the desperate escape of Staff Sergeant Jason Hanson and Hannah McGee it was about to.

**Alright I'll end it here, don't want to give too much away in one chapter. Well this one was quite a lot of fun to write guys I've gotta say. Hope you enjoyed it as much I did and let me know what you thought of it as usual, I prefer constructive criticism over a hundred five word reviews any day of the week. I know you will all have many, many questions as to what'll happen in the next chapter, that's why it's called a cliff hanger, so hopefully it won't leave you all hanging for too long.**

**Next Chapter Preview: Contact, or not to contact? That is the question. And some of the dangers of Terra Nova have been revealed, but a secret to its past is stirring.**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Location: Battlestar _Pegasus_, Brig

Date: February 8, 2025

Time: 0930 Zulu

Admiral Cain couldn't help but despise these mongrels. She'd ordered the captured prisoners from the commando rescue mission brought to her ship which had the facilities to hold them and the Colonial Intelligence officer present to interrogate them. She had little hope that they would really get anything out of them except for some babbling in a language none of them could understand.

Her CMO had taken blood samples from the individuals as was standard so that they would know if there were any infectious diseases present within their systems. Even without that knowledge their CI Major had ordered a HAZMAT team to clear everything that these pirates came into contact with just to be safe. For an added safety measure he was waiting for the tests to come back before interrogating them.

The waiting was what was killing Cain, she hated waiting. But Major Liotes knew what he was doing, so she'd stood back and let him do his job. There were three of them, each was no more than thirty of forty from what she could tell and all of them appeared scared out of their wits. She didn't blame them, their whole crew had just had their asses handed to them and now all thirty-one of them were on ice aboard the _Host of Hades._ One wore a roughly cut tank top and leather pants, the second was shirtless aside from a brown vest and blue pants, and the third had a large gray shirt and black pants with patches on the knees. They all wore thin beards from just not shaving and some longer hair than normal. Their hands were cuffed behind their backs and linked to loops in the metal floor of the glass enclosed brig. And watching them were two Marines, Admiral Cain, and Major Liotes. However they were soon joined by two more Colonials, Lieutenant Kendra Shaw, Cain's aid, and Dr. Kiros, the ship's Chief Medical Officer.

"Sir," Shaw stop just short of her commander with a crisp salute as the doc stopped next to her with a clipboard in hand.

"Lieutenant," Cain nodded before turning to the doctor, "Well doctor?"

"They're human alright and despite some higher than recommended blood alcohol levels they are in good health."

"You may proceed Major," Cain immediately said to the spook next to her who nodded and then signaled the two Marines to follow him in, "Lieutenant?"

"Host of Hades reports that all civilians are on board and crews have been place aboard the civilian vessels and are awaiting orders," the young officer said crisply, glaring at the prisoners as Major Liotes stood behind them with the Marines one each side, causing each of the prisoners to shake in fear at what he might do to them.

"Very well Lieutenant," Cain said, "We'll hold position here until the Atlas Battlestar Group arrives to escort the Host of Hades and the civilian ships back to Colonial space. What's the status on the pirate vessel on the ground?"

"Our chief engineer has been down to inspect the vessel and has declared it to be of unknown origin and unknown design. Its computer surfaces are built entirely of crystals of unknown properties and he's suggested that we use the _Host of Hades_ to descend into the atmosphere and lift the vessel into orbit for transport back to the Colonies. He doesn't want to trigger anything potentially dangerous."

"Can't Rovers bring it up?" Cain asked.

"Negative sir," Shaw responded tactfully, "The Chief has spoken with the Captain of the Host of Hades, It would take five Rovers to do the job but at that close proximity the risks to the craft and their crews is too high."

"Very well," Cain replied, "Relay to Captain Atros, order him to prepare his ship for entry and to lift the pirate vessel into orbit."

"Yes sir."

Cain turned around just in time to see one of the prisoners turn to look at the Major standing behind him. But as soon as he did that he had the butt of one of the Marine's rifles break his nose and collapse onto his belly, much to the fright of the other two. Major Liotes then seemed to snap into a rage. But it was all calculated and masterfully controlled.

"Do not look at me filth!" he roared, causing the other two to snap back and do exactly what he said not to do.

For this Liotes back handed the one in the middle with enough force to lift the pirate off of his knees and spin and fall onto his back. The second was kicked by the second Marine onto his front.

"The Colonial Fleet does not deal with terrorists, brigands, or pirates," he began, "To me you are the lowest of the low. And you will be treated as such. Your only hope of preventing your own demise is to cooperate and your lives may be spared. Do I make myself clear?!"

One of them began babbling again in his strange language and wouldn't stop. So to deal with his running mouth one of the Marines stepped forward and delivered a brutal kick into his ribs with Major Liotes right over him.

"I did not ask for you to speak!"

Cain and Shaw watched the interrogation continue, their own thoughts on the brutal process masked behind the outrage they felt. The ink of the reports sure to be on Cain's desk weren't even dry yet and it was ship-wide knowledge that these pirates were guilty of two of the highest form of crime in the colonies, rape and murder. So who cared if the Colonials roughed them up? If there were a vote amongst the crew these scum would be launched out of a Viper tube and then strapped to the front of the Pegasus as a warning to other pirates who may be out there.

However the torture and constant repetition of questions got old, and so Cain decided to better make use of her time and walked over to the comm that spoke into the cell.

"Major when you get anything out of them contact me," she said calmly before turning away and walked out of the room with Lieutenant Shaw behind her.

"Permission to speak freely sir," Shaw asked.

"Granted."

"Is it true they did everything that the rumor mill said they did?"

"We won't know for sure until the civilians who were…" Cain paused, not comfortable with discussing this, "Who were in that ship can be properly debriefed."

"We're not going to execute them are we sir?"

"Unfortunately no," Cain growled, "That's Fleet Intel's call."

"As long as the frakkers get what's comin' to them I'm…" Shaw began growling before a loud alarm that everyone recognized blared out.

"Action Stations!"

Location: Caprica, Fleet Air Base, Caprica City

The city was a mess of activity, as usual. But out in the country things were slightly less busy. But you could only get so much calm on a military base. Fleet Air Base, Caprica City was the largest military base on the planet, with seven runways and huge flat gray expanses of immaculately cleaned concrete for VTOL landings by everything from Rover and Raptor dropships to Marine and Army Falcon gunships and the old but still useful Blackhawks. A huge number of squadrons of were based here with their aircraft laid out in long rows outside their hangars or in the ready hangars at the beginning of the runways in groups of eight in four concrete hangars.

A separate base's enormous expanse was home to thirty thousand Army troops from the 12th Mechanized Infantry Division and the 10th Armored Division. Their heavily armored vehicles sat in large underground garages, where they were believed to be safe from surprise airstrikes. Their doors were open to allow some to come and go freely to undergo routine maintenance or training maneuvers in the large plains and isolated forests outside the city. Tall control towers vectored and controlled coming and going aircraft besides larger concrete blockhouses with four CIWS turrets on each corner while large concrete rings on the ground with tall stacks of surface to air missiles in their launch boxes sat on standby with Army troops standing with their rifles outside the metal barred entrances. And both bases were separated enough by untouched countryside for twenty miles north and south.

Needless to say, if these bases fell then Caprica City would fall right afterwards. Although an orbital bombardment wouldn't be something either base had the ability to do anything about. Yet even this was a remote possibility to the many thousands of Colonial personnel stationed here. The destruction of the Cylons had seen to that. But one more threat remained to the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, a threat believed to be even greater than the Cylons: Earth. It was this threat that still had the Colonial Defense Force on high alert.

"Scramble!" the voice of the newly assigned Lieutenant Kelsey Adama ringed out in the squadron ready room of the 348th Viper Squadron, the 'Gold Tails'.

On her orders six freshly minted Viper pilots rushed from the couch in the back of the room watching CSN, the Caprica Sports Network and grabbed their helmets from off of the shelves at the front of the large room and followed her out into a humid and overcast day. It was their turn to take part in the combat drills taking place over Caprica City today. Another smaller base off to the east on an island was home to a larger than normal contingent of Vipers manned by fresh new rookies and reservists in need of more experience before being shipped up to the Fleet squadrons.

Their mission was a simple one, prevent those fighters from attacking their base. Kelsey was a section leader now, serving right alongside Starbuck who was the Golden Tails squadron commander while Lee was the commander of a fighter group composed of four different Viper squadrons. But today only the 348th was going up to challenge what was obviously an incursion by the opfor. The other three squadrons would be taking their own turns right after hers.

The alert pilots however were the first into the air, and would be followed by the other half of the squadron whose Vipers were parked under their open shelters just off the tarmac. These pilots too had been itching to go, sitting around the ready room either reading, watching TV, sleeping, or playing cards. They weren't all the way in their flight gear, with the upper garments tied around their waists as they would normally whenever they weren't expecting an air raid, and truth be told they weren't.

None of the squadrons of Lee Adama's fighter group knew which of them were going up first for training or when. But now they knew, as Starbuck had gotten the call on her phone sitting on her desk where she'd been sitting with Kelsey, watching the Caprica Buccaneers game. She'd grabbed her flight helmet and was now standing at the door urging her squadron forward.

"Move it! Move it! Move it!" Starbuck yelled, pushing the pilots out the door.

Kelsey was already running off of the patio towards the ready hangars. She could see that the ground crew, dressed in the classic orange and yellow coveralls that their comrades aboard the fleet wore. Many were strapping on their helmets and goggles while the pilots ran to their birds. Kelsey was the first to her Viper, a Mark VII.

"Come on, come on!" she yelled urging the other fighter pilots to their birds as they summited the ladders to their Vipers.

The red ribbons and tags mounted on her Viper's nose and weapons were removed by a gaggle of ground crew as she climbed upon her Viper and dropped into her seat. She was joined by a man who helped rapidly secure her helmet in place and then she started going through a detailed systems check starting with her engines and got an all green after hitting the systems check buttons. She then hit the button for the avionics and got a green light there as well and then checked her weapons systems and got a full set of green lights. She then checked her controls, getting all the right responses from across her Viper. She was all set.

"Starting!" she yelled as she spun her hand in the air to let the ground crew know her three engines were starting.

The high-pitched whirring of the engine turned into a high-pitched roar as life was breathed into it. Warm orange white flame jetted from the rear as the engine warmed up and gave the concrete wall in the rear of the hangar an extra coat of burnt black soot on its surface. Kelsey could now hear the air controllers sounding off along with the check-in calls from the other pilots as their Vipers checked out all green.

"Starbuck, Control, you are green for takeoff at your discretion," Kelsey heard the single male voice call over the wireless.

"Copy Control," Starbuck called out, "Lightbulb lead off with Dusty followed by Piledriver and Baitfish. Daisy you're with me, and Comet and Olive will follow in the rear."

"Lightbulb rolling," Kelsey said out loud, hitting the final button that sent the canopy sliding over her head and sealed itself shut.

"Dusty rolling," the young ensign called out right beside her as the two Vipers next to one another began rolling out of their hangar.

"DRADIS tallies six contacts coming in at extreme range at low altitude," their controller informed them as the two Vipers lined up beside one another as two more Mark VII's came out of their fortified hangar across from them.

"Roger," she replied, and then pinned the throttle forward, "Taking off."

Take-offs from a Battlestar were far different than take-offs from a runway. It was a gradual pull as the three powerful engines powered the Vipers forward, sending the surroundings past them at increasing paces. Then at a certain speed Kelsey pulled the stick back and went airborne and then pull even harder on the stick. The Vipers went almost vertical with their comrades already half-way down the tarmac as eight more Vipers went through their inspections as the other pilots of the 348th scrambled into the cockpit.

"Climbing to angels five," Kelsey said, checking to see that the other Viper was off to her right, even with her, "Dusty pull back, you're too close," she snapped to him, annoyed at how close the rookie pilot was.

"Roger Lightbulb," the other pilot responded, getting a shake of the head from Kelsey as they started to circle over the airfield and saw the other six Vipers all lifting off in close succession.

"All Vipers, vector to heading zero-eight-five," Starbuck called out, "Barricade formation, set DRADIS to active scanning. You ready for this Lightbulb?"

"Always," Kelsey said as the other Viper came right up next to her before banking away to spread out in the classic interceptor formation known as the Barricade.

The Colonial Barricade Formation was a simple wide formation of Vipers at even altitude with each pair of Vipers spread apart, their DRADIS scanning in a wide active sweep, ready to meet any hostiles. The rest of the squadron would be forming the rear guard, ready to pick off any missiles and stragglers that the alert fighters had missed. All eight of the alert Vipers were now taking up this formation, and their active targeting DRADIS sent their feeds right to their pilots and to the eight simulated missiles mounted in the underbelly of the Vipers' weapons bays.

"Tally-ho, six contacts, make four Vipers and two Raptors," Starbuck called out, being in the lead she saw it first.

"They see us too, reading active targeting DRADIS lighting us up," Kelsey alerted the other Vipers.

The Vipers were just below the cloud cover, jumping back and forth between patches of gray angry clouds. The ground disappeared beneath them after a minute with Caprica City off to their left, the glinting of the skyscapers being the most visible cue. Their DRADIS picked up several civilian ships in the area and the usual Viper CAP over the city was just on their normal patrol, their pilots doubtless watching the alert Vipers of their home base going after some intruders. But then, several Vipers' control surfaces began blazing an alert as their Vipers were targeted.

"Missiles in the air! Missiles in the air!" Kelsey heard several of the rookies yell, causing her ears to ring as she was about to lock on with her own missile.

"Take evasive action!" Starbuck called out, slamming her stick down and jamming her Viper into a spinning dive that her wingman could barely keep up with.

Kelsey obeyed the call for evasive action and yanked her Viper straight up, charging through the clouds, feeling the buffeting of the large winds in the clouds through her controls. Her wingman stayed with her, the two Vipers rolling as their DRADIS tracked the formation of Vipers coming at them with the missiles highlighted on their HUD's as blinking red and black in front of them as they closed with their targets. Their breaths were caught in their chests until they saw the missiles tracking towards Starbuck's lead element which had gotten pinged first and thus targeted first.

So, she decided to fire back. Her DRADIS had already locked onto one of the rapidly closing Raptors in the rear of the formation, and knowing that was her target she hit the red button next to the trigger button on the stick. Normally a live missile would be jettisoned out of the bottom of the Viper and then jet off towards its target. But these were simulated dogfights, so all her 'missile' in fact was, was a data stream fed to all participating aircraft to see on their HUD's and instruments.

"Fox Two," she calmly said over the wireless right as she hit the button.

That data stream had ben smiling upon Kelsey Adama, as she saw the red symbol on her HUD of her target blink and go black, signaling that it was destroyed.

"Splash one!" Kelsey whooped as she inverted her fighter and rolled down to engage the closing formation of four Vipers and the lone Raptor coming in at low level.

"Good shot Lightbulb, now watch this," Starbuck cockily said as she triggered her own missile volley, this time firing two missiles towards the Vipers coming at them.

The two opposing formations were now getting very close to one another, and there wasn't much time for the attackers to take evasive maneuvers to avoid the incoming missiles coming from above them. But one of them fired off a pair of missiles right at Kelsey's Viper and that of her wingman right before Starbuck's simulated missiles struck the Viper as it pulled up and knocked it out along with its wingman on its left side.

"Frak! Incoming, deploying countermeasures!"

Kelsey hit her maneuvering thrusters hard, sending her Viper into a swift pivot downwards with an arc of flares and chaff right behind her as she hit her engines to full afterburner and rolled left into the missiles. The G-Forces bombarding her body were extreme, but she handled it thanks in part to her flight suit. The missiles missed her, but one hit her wingman.

"Dusty's hit!" the rookie yelled over the wireless, "FRAK!"

"You out?" Kelsey asked as she rolled right and came level with the climbing pair of escorting intruders as the Raptor dove for the hard deck with its escorts trying to busy the interceptors.

"Yeah, I'm KIA," Dusty groaned, "Returning to base."

Kelsey noted it, flinching at the loss of her wingman but continued to press the attack as she saw Starbuck alone pressing in from above her. Her wingman hadn't been able to outmaneuver the initial missile wave either and had taken a hit, but was only damaged and unable to continue the fight so he too was going home. Kelsey didn't notice where the other four friendly Vipers had gone and had no clue where the other half of the squadron was which was going through its preflight checklists as she and the alert Vipers had taken off.

"Looks like it's you and me Starbuck," Kelsey chuckled as they finally got into gun range with what they now saw were Marine painted Viper Mark VII's.

"No it's just me," Starbuck grinned, before doing one of her classically wild, out-of-the-blue maneuvers.

Starbuck's Viper seemed to just drop all of a sudden as she cut power and then pulled her nose up and hit her wing mounted maneuvering thrusters. Her Viper slowed down immensely and dropped in altitude immensely right as the four Vipers closed in on each other. Starbuck laid into her guns at that point, sending three lasers lancing out from her three cannons, raking the Marine Viper along its right side, dealing a crippling blow. And without missing a beat Starbuck's Viper came head-to-head with the Raptor and once more fired at her new target getting another easy kill.

Kelsey's opponent hadn't been so awestruck, he just started firing right as Kelsey did so as well. Simulated rounds flashed by on her HUD as she and the opposing Viper jinked and maneuvered as they closed. Her readouts flashed as her left wing took a hit as a white flash erupted from her target, indicating that she'd also scored a hit, but not a critical hit. So right before they closed Kelsey rolled left and pointed her nose down and then pulled back on the stick hard as she laid on the trigger. However her opponent had done likewise, and both Vipers strafed past one another, neither scoring a hit. But the maneuvers had bled airspeed and the Marine Viper dove to regain momentum in a tight dive.

She followed the green and brown painted fighter with guns spitting out rounds as she got her target in the position she wanted it and scored several hits through the swirling maneuvers. But right as she was about to score one last lethal hit the target's symbol went black, signaling her pounding had killed the Viper.

"Frak yeah! Got another one!" Kelsey roared in triumph as the Marine Viper she'd 'killed' banked up and away, headed for home.

"Nice job," Starbuck grinned, her own Viper appearing off to Kelsey's left as it pulled in close as both Vipers scanned for additional targets, "Looks like it's mission accomplished, let's head for the barn."

"Dusty won't be happy," Kelsey winced, "I think I blocked his path with that chaff drop and he had to turn away from the missiles."

"Well he should've been in tighter then," Starbuck grumbled.

"Yeah…" Kelsey cooed, "I might have…sorta told him to give me space as we climbed to altitude."

"So you indirectly got your wingman killed?" Starbuck laughed, "I might have to give you latrine duty for that."

"Maybe," Kelsey corrected, "I may have indirectly done it."

"Well that's why we're training here Lightbulb," Starbuck shrugged, "If we run into an Earth ship I doubt their missiles will be simulated."

"Does that mean I'm not on latrine duty?" she laughed.

"Meh, I'll give it to sections three and four. Those frakkers are just getting to altitude."

"Are you kidding me?" Kelsey groaned, she knew they should have been at altitude five minutes ago. They took too long getting off the ground, so it may or may not have been the pilots' faults. It could have been the ground crews at fault instead or as well. Either way, Starbuck was not happy.

"Getting too complacent," Starbuck mused, "With no real threat, at least to them, we're getting sloppy. And we don't have to be reminded of that."

"Sloppy about got me killed," Kelsey mumbled under her breath, remembering several times in her previous experiences where being too comfortable with the circumstances had resulted in some close calls.

"And kidnapped," Starbuck poked, "Although saving you was a ton of fun Lightbulb."

"Yes I know, you got to kill Cylons congratulations," Kelsey responded bitterly, "But we also missed the last battles didn't we?"

"Oh…yeah, still a bit pissed we didn't get to see the old man in action."

"Yeah," Kelsey grumbled, "Me too."

Location: Leonis, Luminere, Capital City of Leonis

The crew was none too happy, things had gone too easily and they'd found themselves a buyer who was much too willing to pay their rather outrageous price. In a nutshell they were jumpy. Who could blame them, after all a heist crew worth its salt never believed in an easy job. This was especially true with one-of-a-kind treasures. They'd hitched a ride aboard a transport out of Caprica City immediately after the job had taken place and then changed over to a shuttle to Leonis where their boss had found a buyer who was willing to pay the hefty sum of ten million cubits for their haul.

The job had taken place a long time ago, five years to be precise. Since then, due to the sensitive nature of the item, they'd laid low. The cops had been canvasing thoroughly, watching for any signs of the impending sale of such an item. So the crew had waited, biding their time until the heat had died down. But now their payday had come.

All seven of them were now set up in different locations with their pistols hidden underneath their thin jackets. It was a nice night in the planetary capital, albeit very windy. They could see the lone moon constantly get covered up by thin clouds high overhead, but the meager light of the lights in this small mall's parking lot kept them lit up enough.

One of them was standing outside their van, smoking a cigarette as he stood on watch. Four of the others were in the van, two in the front seats and the other two in the empty bed behind the sliding doors. Lastly two more were in a separate car parked down the row with the cargo in the back seat. They were completely hidden from view as they were far away from any lights coming from the lamps over the middle of the parking lot.

"When do we leave if this guy doesn't show?" the driver asked as he sipped from a bottle of Leonis Red, the most popular energy drink in the Colonies.

"Give it fifteen minutes," the boss said as he looked at his watch and gave the item in the back one more glance, "And he'd better be here."

"How are you so sure it's a he?"

"Women don't usually do these things themselves, especially women who are rich enough for our little item."

"I don't know, Trish might have something to say about that," the driver chuckled.

He was of course referring to their crew's youngest member, a hot little redhead that they tasked with distractions and seductions to get the job done. And she usually got to kill those she'd seduced to tie off loose ends.

"No she won't," the older man responded, "At least not to me."

"Oh, got her intimidated now have we?"

"Frak no," he chuckled, "But there's another reason."

The younger man hesitated as he tried to figure out exactly what his boss was trying to get at and then it hit him.

"You're frakkin' her aren't you?"

The confident smile his boss gave him was all the confirmation he needed.

"You lucky bastard. That's why she's been in a slightly better mood."

"If by better mood you mean she's not been as willing to kill the rest of you then…" he started but then the headlights of a car pulling into the parking lot caught his attention, "Buyer's here."

His partner saw the lights too, and screwed the cap back onto his bottle and put it into the cupholder next to the stick of the old car. The car was an expensive one, that was for certain. It was colored a dark blue with chromed wheels and grill with chromed trim along the side panels and roof. The windows were heavily tinted as well, just what they'd expected.

"Alright, eyes up, keep quiet and don't spook him. If he's got the money make sure it's the price we agreed on before calling us over," he spoke into his walkie talkie to the rest of the team in the van.

"Got it boss," the driver said back to him, giving the car a nod calmly as they waited for the large SUV to pull up next to them.

And it didn't waste any time, and pulled up with the headlights illuminating the van and the man next to it. The man held his hand over his face the lights were so bright as he tossed his cigarette to the ground and let it blow away with the strong wind. All of them waited as the front and rear passenger doors opened and out walked two men in suits with one holding a suitcase and walked over to the van.

"Have our money?" the man outside asked.

"Have my item?" the suit with the suitcase replied calmly, clearly not jumpy or intimidated.

"They've done this before," the boss whispered as he watched the exchange, impressed with the calm confidence of their buyer.

"We've got it, but you're not leaving with it until we know you're not trying to stiff us."

There was a moment as the duo examined one another, waiting to see who would show their hand first. But a quick glance from the man next to the van towards the car set everything in motion.

"So that's where you're keeping it," the guy with the suitcase grinned slyly, looking at the car, "Smart."

But the two robbers in the car went white with what happened next. The second guy who'd been waiting and watching quietly put his hand to his ear and spoke.

"Take 'em."

Then two armored vans roared out of their hidden locations behind the mall and lurched to a stop in front of the van. The glass doors of the closed mall swung open revealing over a dozen heavily armed police wearing Kevlar body armor, helmets, and goggles with submachine guns pointed at the car. More identically equipped black clothed police appeared from the rear of the two armored police vans and had their weapons aimed at the van. This happened just as the other members of the robbery crew emerged from the sliding door with pistols in hand, but were stunned to see how much weight had been brought down on top of them.

"LPD, drop your weapons!" each of the cops roared out as they had their flashlights pointed at the robbers who dared not try to fight it out.

The duo in the car were quickly surrounded and had a dozen submachine guns pointed at their chests as their window was lit up and they instinctively put their hands in the air. The jig was up, the law had caught up with them. This fact was especially well enforced when the cops opened the doors and wrenched the men out of their seats and had them face first on the concrete before cuffing them. One of the cops read them their rights with careful precision as their hands were cuffed tightly before they checked them and found two pistols in their waistbands.

But one of their number opened the rear door and saw the tube in the back and grabbed it carefully, knowing what was inside. He then carefully unscrewed the cap on the end and checked for booby traps before reaching inside and saw the other police next to him watching in anticipation. He smiled behind his balaclava as he carefully drew out a long golden arrow.

"Team Two to Control, we've got it. Objective secured, all suspects detained," the man said, speaking loud enough for all to hear.

"Copy that Team Two, good work."

What he was holding was the subject of five years of investigation and tracking. It was the Arrow of Apollo. And with it the Colonies might finally be able to find their way to Earth.

**It's a little shorter than the normal chapters I come out with but this one is meant to be a simple one for getting the plot going. As usual this one took a bit long to get posted, but I have a very good reason for that. Besides school and everything I had to scrap the original chapter on Friday after what happened in Paris. I'd originally planned a terrorist attack on Sagitarron, but after Paris it just didn't sit right with me to have that in the story so soon after such a tragic event occurred. So this is what came after a few days of work to get the next chapter up.**

**I think we all know by now what has occurred in Paris. It was a terrible and barbarous act of terrorism against innocents. But Paris shall recover, France will rise to the challenge, and all that is good in this world will step forward to punish those animals responsible. I have already sent an email expressing my condolences to the government of France but I think that I should say this to all the world: **

_**Je suis Paris. Nous sommes avec vous.**_

**Next Chapter Preview: An ancient race gives the Colonials their reality check and the **_**Pegasus **_**meets the Colonials' new enemy.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Location: Terra Nova, Caves Beneath Fort Jacob Carter MTP

Date: February 8, 2015

Time: 1030

Things had been quiet since the unlucky duo of Sergeant Jason Hanson and Hannah McGee had their first rather violent run-in with a new species in these dark foreboding caves. But that experience had really gotten the two young individuals to move that much more quickly towards the surface and more importantly, to a spot where Jason could make contact with the surface and get rescued. To do that they'd gone up, or at least tried. The caves of Terra Nova were impossible to successfully navigate, as the two of them were the first people to ever be down here.

But that didn't come without some astounding sights. The lights they used to see had shown them great caverns as large as warehouses with stalagmites and stalactites hanging and rising in all shapes and sizes. They'd seen several groves of quartz crystals ranging in size from nails to massive pillars that they had to climb over in order to move forward. Several clear streams of water had led them to tiny holes that led them to dead-end after dead-end. Their hopes had been dashed time and time again by this maze, and the wonder of this place was starting to fade.

"Dammit," Jason sighed again for what felt like the tenth time that day as they came yet again to another wall of stone where a stream of water had led them.

"Not again," Hannah groaned, her tired legs buckling as she let herself collapse against a pillar of quartz that they'd had to climb over and squeeze through a hole above it to get to this point.

"I'm afraid so," Jason said, examining the wall in the hope that there was a hole or something that they could try and squirm through.

Hannah ignored the ankle deep water she was sitting in, bottled up by the quartz like a dam, only flowing out where it connected a few feet above the floor. She was just too tired to really care right now. They'd been moving nonstop at Jason's insistence, and her stamina was just starting to give out.

"Can I just…sit for a little while, we're safe here aren't we?" Hannah asked, feeling the tingling pain of the soreness coursing through her feet and legs from all the moving they'd done.

"Tired?" he asked, shining his flashlight onto her.

"You think?" she snapped back testily.

"Yeah we can take a few minutes," Jason relented, moving over to the wall and held out his hand to support himself so he could sit down and lean against the smooth limestone.

But something happened right then that neither had been expecting. Jason's hand made contact with the stone wall, or at least it should have. But his hand continued moving unabated, passing through the wall itself causing a shimmering ripple to pass through the image of the entire surface. Jason stumbled and fell through the image and collapsed to his knees in the trickling water beyond the image and hoisted his rifle immediately and backed away. He found himself right next to Hannah who stood to her feet immediately, every bit as surprised as he was.

"What the hell?" Jason managed to stammer, aiming his weapon at the image of the wall as it came to a still.

"Is that?"

"A holographic image, yeah."

Jason stood to his feet, rifle still pointed at the image unsure of what to make of it. Behind him he heard Hannah also get up and walked around him to reach out and touch the hologram. To this move he instantly reached out and yanked her back by the handle on her backpack.

"Well this could be just some secret EDF thing right? We're the only ones on this planet."

"That we know of," he replied grimly.

"Don't," he said, making the decision of whether or not to go through it in his head, "Shit…stay behind me."

"What's the big deal?" Hannah said as Jason went right in front of the holographic wall, "It's just a hologram that your bosses set up to hide something."

"That's just it, we don't have any reason hide anything from…cave creatures. But…this is the only other way that we've come across," Jason said, contemplating the consequences, "I don't think we've got a choice."

"Not really," Hannah sighed as Jason tucked his rifle against his chest and walked forward, his barrel poking through the image.

She watched him go right through the wall, and took a deep breath before following him through. Hannah did not feel a thing, not even a little static electricity to make her hair stand on end. But when she came out on the other end she was slightly disappointed, all that was there was a continuation of the cave they were in. Nothing but rock and white milky crystals and the quartz was getting even bigger.

As the continued Jason's flashlight illuminated entire pillars of quarts growing in all directions, their pointy ends embedded into the ceiling at times with smaller ones entirely covering the walls ahea of them. It was a tight squeeze, but they also noticed something else they continued onwards.

"Is it just me or is getting warm in here?" Hannah asked.

"Yeah, and more humid," Jason acknowledged, looking at his HUD to get a reading, "Over ninety degrees and seventy percent humidity, and rising."

"We could getting closer," Hannah noted.

"Maybe but I'm still getting shit for signal, something's messing with my comms, or…" Jason started but then stopped as he looked over to the side, seeing a glint from his flashlight that was most definitely not natural, "The hell? Metal?"

"What? Where?"

"Here," Jason said excitedly, bounding towards what looked like a large pipe four feet wide. It was oddly built, with a rough texture with chips and rust spread across its face. There were even small crystals growing on it, "This is odd. Looks like it's been here forever."

"Yeah…" Hannah said, "But who cares right now? Could it be our way out of here?"

"We can follow it up and see."

Both of them started paralleling the pipe that they now saw was extremely hot to the touch, steaming in several places as drops of water splashed down upon it from the ceiling. They continued this path, going upwards thankfully, and finally reached what appeared to be the end of the road.

The two of them had to duck down underneath a bunch of crystals to find themselves on top of a limestone outcropping that just dropped away into a deep chasm. All Jason's flashlight could make out was steam and the far wall wasn't even able to be seen. Here there was the sound water falling and the heat and humidity were oppressive. Jason's uniform and armor could handle it, barely, but Hannah was sweating horribly, and due to the humidity it did no good whatsoever. Around them was steam rising in thick clouds that Jason's flashlight just couldn't cut through. The floor and walls were slick with condensed water, causing drips to stream down the walls and crystal formations in glistening trickling orbs that could be counted in the tens of thousands. Even Jason's weapon and armor weren't impervious. But thankfully his hydrophobic visor was prevented from clouding up.

"Damn," Hannah said, looking over the lip to see the cliff face covered in white crystals until the floor was obscured by the steam.

"Holy shit!" Jason all of a sudden yelled as he looked straight up.

Above them, where the pipe they'd been following was jutting straight up, was a large pentagonal shape, several glowing green lights on its highly corroded surface. Metal pillars jutted out to the sides, connecting to the walls as a great many pipes leading to it. But they could also make out a metal walkway into the structure just through the steam clouds. It was easily two or three hundred feet across and from what the two of them could tell at least fifty feet tall.

"Wow what is that thing?" Hannah gasped, taking in the incredible sight.

"It sure isn't one of ours," Jason replied, aiming at the thing looking for anything that could have signaled it as belonging to Earth.

"Well let's check it out, maybe that's what's stopping us your radio," Hannah suggested, looking to the right and saw the ledge began climbing up the wall with some metal railings finally visible.

"No, I'm checking it out!" Jason ordered her, grabbing her by the handle on her pack and held her in place, "You stay back, got it?"

"But I-," Hannah started.

"It is not a suggestion. That is an _order_!" he hissed back to her as he quickly stalked up the walkway towards the catwalk but then he heard her walking behind him and he whirled around.

"You can't just leave me there!" she said before he could say anything.

"If you get hurt…" he groaned, knowing he really couldn't stop her short of stunning her with the attached stun weapon on the end of his rifle.

"I won't, besides this place looks abandoned."

"Hard to argue that, I'm not seeing a bit of maintenance, look at this stuff," he motioned, kicking at the metal railings, and was shocked when the piece he kicked came loose and clattered to the ground.

"Well, I'm sure feeling confident in that catwalk now," Hannah chuckled nervously as they realized they'd reached the thing in question. Needless to say, the two of them were not wild about walking across it.

"One at a time, don't look down," Jason said as he took a first tentative step across the twenty foot expanse.

The catwalk shuddered at the first steps on it for many years, but held firm. Water condensed upon the grates made things slightly slippery, and Hanson kept one hand resting on the less than stable railings and one hand on his rifle. He could make out the square door, and with a few more steps was right in front of it. There was a small square window on it that was fogged up completely that Jason shined his flashlight into but couldn't make out anything. He then located what appeared to be a button on the right hand side of the entry as Hannah came up behind him.

"You think this rings the bell?" Jason asked sarcastically as he pointed at it.

"Wouldn't hurt," Hannah shrugged back to him as he pressed it.

With an audible click lights above the door lit up and then the door hissed open. The light was almost blinding at first as the door at least it tried to open. The metal face only opened about halfway before jamming open, shuddering as it tried to finish the programmed response. Jason poked his rifle through immediately, shinging his flashlight into what appeared to be an open hallway devoid of light aside from a few green lights mounted on the walls. Several doors also appeared along the white faced walls with several black screens scattered along the length of it.

"Clear," Jason said affirmatively and wrenched the door to fully open and as he led the way into the facility, "Earth Defense Force, anyone here?! Show yourselves now!"

His voice carried down the hall and he figured out no one was home after heard his own echo. He looked back at Hannah and both walked in surprised at the cool air conditioning that was apparently still functioning in this place.

"Wow, that's nice to walk into," Hannah said as she took in the cool but stale air.

"No kidding," Jason replied, "Stay close, don't touch anything."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Hannah responded holding up her hands as they made their way down the hall.

The lights of the building were green, and scattered on the sides of the walls to perform an emergency lighting system that was more than enough for them to use. Compared the pitch black cave they'd emerged from this was a pulsing disco room so they had no gripes. They first noticed the strange writing that was etched onto labels next to the doors and painted onto the walls. Jason went to the first room and looked through a window into it, seeing what appeared to be tables with lab equipment scattered on top of their black surfaces. Several cabinets colored the same color as the bleach white wall were also perfectly shut and everything in this place seemed nice and tidy. Hannah looked at a window across the hall to see an identical room to the one he'd just found.

"Labs of some kind," Hannah said, shining her glow stick into the room before she saw something on the ground right beside one of the tables. She had to do a double take but they looked like a person's legs, as if someone was lying on the ground, "J-Jason, there's some-something in there."

The young girl backed away from the window as Jason responded and was right at the door with weapon raised and saw what she was pointing at. With his weapon's light he could see it in detail, a pair of black shoes with a pair of gray pant legs attached with the rest hidden behind the table inside.

"I'm gonna check it out," he said before deciding to give her some measure of safety and reached down and pulled out his forty-five caliber M502 Assault Pistol with attached stunner and flashlight. This he put into her shaking hands, "Flip this to fire. And only fire if you know can hit it. Alright?"

"Okay," she said, hefting the heavy weapon and watched Jason open the swinging door into the lab and entered it.

Jason cleared the immediate wall, seeing several waste bins with some things still inside. Dust was everywhere, and there was also a slight sweet stink from the body he found on the floor. Whoever it had been hadn't died of natural causes, as on the bare bone of the skull Jason could make out a bullet hull and a cracked and flaky stain of blood still on the floor. The individuals arms were bent around the head, the fingers just next to the head. There wasn't even a speck of hair or flesh upon the corpse. All the remained were the fragile remnants of a white labcoat and gray pants. He could still make out the etching of several symbols on the shoulders and arms. Kneeling down next to the body he carefully poked it with his rifle. The metal went right through the flaking cloth and disturbed the bones. As he backed away his foot sent something colored silver rolling away and he turned and saw that it was an open cylinder. He recognized it as a spent shell casing.

"Jason?" Hannah asked, staring down the hall.

"Whoever it is has been dead a long, long time. Just bones and clothes," he said calmly as he searched the rest of the room, finding nothing but shattered glass and scattered papers with similar characters written on the fading papers that crumbled as soon as they were disturbed.

"H-how?"

"How'd they die?" Jason asked as he walked into the hall again, intent on searching the rest of the area, "Shot, back of the head."

"Oh my God," Hannah gasped, looking into the room Jason had just left. Jason was actually surprised that she said it in a more surprised manner than a frightful manner.

"Come on," Jason ordered her, walking down the hall to a T-intersection before stopping. Once there he halted them and swept his rifle to the left, saw nothing and then swept back right. What his rifle's flashlight picked up surprised him.

Lined up against the wall were more bodies. They too were just bones with the fragile remains of their clothing tangled amongst them. Most were dressed similarly to the first one. Their bodies lay in tangled heaps as they'd fallen, holes and stains in the walls evident from when they'd been lined up and shot. But several were not dressed like them. Two bodies, Jason noticed, were wearing a dark green uniform with a thick vest and helmets still strapped onto their skulls. They were not all that dissimilar from his own, albeit somewhat less advanced.

"What the fuck happened here?" Jason couldn't help but breath in curiosity as the skulls of the individuals were prevented from staring back at them thanks to black hoods placed over them.

"Must've had the wrong enemies," Hannah breathed in a calm tone as she leaned down and picked up a plastic card with a thin coating of blood that just flaked away as she brushed it aside with her thumb. The picture she saw was of an old man with a symbol of a green four pointed star with what looked like some sort of crown of leaves around it with more of that unreadable writing.

"No doubt," Jason responded, searching the two soldiers carefully.

As expected the old clothes didn't hold up, crumbling as he handled them and looked for anything that may have held any sort of useful answers. He wasn't surprised to find that there wasn't a scrap of really anything on them, as would be expected of a captured soldier that had been pinned to the wall and shot.

"Jeez, how long has this been down here?" Hannah asked as curiosity etched its way into her voice.

"That's the question we're asking now?" Jason asked with a slight chuckle, "No 'can we leave now' from the college girl?"

"Not all girls are going to cling onto the nearest guy they see when something scary or gross shows itself," Hannah scoffed.

"You seem like my kind of girl then," he laughed out loud, "Dated a clingy girl once. Got old, really fast."

"You wish," she said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

"Tell you what then, when we get out of here I'll take you to the restaurant of your choice. With this little incident I'll definitely have a weekend pass coming to me."

"You're seriously asking me out right now?" Hannah asked with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Why not? Everything here is dead, might as well lighten the mood. Although you could crush it with a no as your answer."

"I'm free Saturday for dinner, unless your superiors decide to hold me in some interrogation cell until they're satisfied that I won't talk about this."

"They wouldn't do that," Jason replied with a sigh as he led them down another hall, seeing signs of a fight etched into the walls with bullet holes and cracks and chips on the floor alongside dozens of shell cases.

"I'd bet you a round of drinks they will," Hannah replied.

"Oh you're one of those girls?"

"No I'm not!" she quickly snapped back, "I've never been wasted in my life."

"Is that so?" he responded, seeing a much larger pair of windows on the wall with a double set of doors open in between them, "Looks like a control center of some kind."

Both windows had numerous bullet holes in them, cracks spreading out like a massive series of spiderwebs. The doors were open, and Jason shined his flashlight onto another trio of bodies like the soldiers he'd seen back down the hall. There was a series of power cords running from the back of the room to a table in the center of the room. Around it were solid banks of control boards with screens mounted on the tops. Many were damaged or shattered entirely, pieces of them scattered on the ground alongside bullet casings and the bodies of their long-decomposed defenders.

However it was what was on top of the table that Jason was intrigued with. His HUD was just starting act weird when we got close to it, and that's how he knew that this thing was the problem. The device was about as large as a big lava lamp, with a glass case with a metal tube inside of it. A glowing red light inside the glass case was the only active piece of equipment they had seen aside from the emergency lights. The power cables on it seemed to had been jury-rigged from the existing systems here to provide power to it and that was his closest bet as to deactivating this thing.

"Well, this looks like it could be it," he grumbled, looking around for any sort of booby traps laid around it, "Nothing rigged to it…let's try turning it off and see."

"You sure that's a good idea?" Hannah replied.

"Unless you've got any other suggestions?"

"Fair enough."

"Better stand back," Jason suggested, "I don't wanna shock myself here so I'll just shoot the power cord here and see if that works."

He gently pushed her in the direction of the door as he aimed his rifle at the power cord and prepped his underslung plasma cannon. This weapon was basically a small Earth-made staff weapon that was smaller than a grenade launcher but held every bit of the power that the well-known Jaffa weapon had. So he held his hand on the trigger to the weapon, switched off the safety and pushed the unlock button. The housing around the weapon opened up and he pulled the trigger. A loud whooshing sound broke the silence and the powerful blast of white plasma smashed into the thick power cord and cut it clean in half. The humming device lost its power and died immediately with no real drama aside from the sparking coming from the partially melted cord he'd just blasted.

Right at that moment his radio immediately came back to life. His signal strength was right along with his full HUD capability. IFF signals were now pinging all over his HUD as he looked up, seeing the signals of his squad above him, their distance barely a kilometer away.

"Three-Two Actual, this is Angel, how copy?" the excited voice of the emergency channel operator called out, noticing that his transponder was back on line.

"Angel, Three-Two Actual, I read you five-by-five," Hanson said loudly, relief flooding into his voice.

"Thank Christ," Hannah breathed in absolute joy.

"Signal status Sergeant," another older voice ordered him.

"Status green, situation yellow. I don't know if you can detect this from the surface but…I think I know why our signals weren't working."

"We're reading you solid Three-Two, our sensors have mapped out the cave networks, it shouldn't be much longer until rescue arrives. Sit tight and watch over that civilian. That is your primary mission Sergeant. We'll be on standby for a red situation to beam you two out if it comes to that."

"Understood," Hanson responded, rolling his eyes as he contemplated why they hadn't done so already. The reason was simple, beaming technology was still top secret and the military didn't want that knowledge getting out to the general public if they could help it.

"Well?" Hannah asked.

"Rescue's on the way," he said calmly, "I guess that…thing in there was blocking our electronics."

"So that's it? They want us to stay here?" Hannah asked, hoping she wouldn't have to go back out there unless she knew that they were legitimately going towards salvation.

"Those are my orders. Stay here and keep you safe. Shouldn't be too hard."

Unknown to the two of them the deactivation of the device on the table set into motion a chain of events that they had yet to truly understand. But they would soon enough. Not only was that device a jammer, but it controlled a holographic projector designed to cloak the presence of the facility to the naked eye. And even more it was a transponder, an all-clear beacon that, when lost, would set off a series of alarms to those who'd placed it there. But there was no way for them to know that, all they knew was that they were getting out of this god-forsaken place.

Location: Planet P5X-359

"Okay…I think they've got this," O'Neill noted as he saw a large box-shaped dropship descend right outside of the ruins of the village.

"It went absolutely flawless, not a single Colonial casualty," Major Blanton agreed, looking through a pair of binoculars at the Colonial staging area.

"So now what?" Brenda asked from her spot behind a fallen pillar of stone along with the rest of the team.

"We're not going down there," O'Neill cut her off, knowing what she really wanted to do.

"Oh come on, their operation is over, they're calm enough."

"Don't be so sure," Blanton responded, "See those gunships above us? They're sweeping for contacts outside the AO to further secure their perimeter. Calm my ass."

"They're called Raptors Major," the voice of Captain Hailey piped up as she worked with the tablet she'd hidden underneath a raincoat she'd commandeered from Lieutenant Gibson, "They're actually a bit more than a mere gunship. Pretty flexible craft able to serve as CAS, SAR, and General Utility."

"I don't need the particulars Captain."

"I beg to differ sir."

Blanton brought his binoculars down and turned to look at Hailey who was just oblivious to how arrogant she was sounding. Then again, she was always like this. Having an IQ that was only matched by two other people tended to inflate one's ego.

"How do you figure then Hailey?"

"I want to know everything. Especially about something that can kill me," she replied from under her raincoat.

"Knowing everything can be a problem, especially when it's your opponent, you second guess, you over analyze, you forget to react," Lieutenant Holden said from where she'd popped her bipod on her sniper rifle and was carefully looking at the Colonials.

"Hailey's right," Brenda responded, "Know your enemy and you know yourself and in a thousand battles you will never be in peril."

"Look at you miss Art of War," Major Rosario chuckled from next to Brenda, giving her a good-natured shove.

"Sun Tsu's lessons apply to more than the battlefield," she replied calmly.

"But remember what its first purpose is," O'Neill grimly said as he now noticed that a fog was starting to roll in and obscure things now that the rain had stopped.

"It also says war is the last thing to embark upon," Blanton added.

"Don't join her side," O'Neill responded with smile. He of course didn't mean he'd rather fight than have peace, he just didn't want to give Brenda the satisfaction of winning an argument. It was a little bit petty but fuck it.

With that the group settled back into their overwatch of the Colonial position. The sun was starting to warm the distant horizon and an increasingly thick blanket of fog was rolling in, the wind driving it right towards them on their position on top of a high ridgeline.

The detachment from SG-1 was well hidden in their spot. They'd stayed in the protective cover of the hundreds of stone pillars worn down into a menagerie of different sizes and shapes that were like walking through a maze of spires with a slick floor and moss and grass growing out of any crevice it could get a hold. They had spread out, all eight SG-1 members staying groups of four with someone on constant watch behind them and on their flanks. But this was more for a last line of defense.

Dr. Underwood and Dr. Ellis had kept them well apprised of any Colonials or aircraft moving towards them throughout the observation of the Colonial rescue mission. The group hadn't come within a kilometer of a single Colonial, but one couldn't be too careful. Especially after they'd seen just how deadly the Colonials had proven they could be when driven into action.

Even the elite of SG-1 had been impressed. The Colonial rescue had gone off without a bad moment, at least for them. They'd seen the lifesigns drop by more than twenty as they'd basically went in, kicked ass and took names. From where they were they weren't able to see the majority of the combat but they had seen that the Colonials were in every way in their rights to conduct such a mission. They'd seen a young girl, presumably Colonial, taken away by a single pirate so he could do whatever unspeakable things he wished to her. But the Colonial special forces weren't going to put up with that shit, and they'd seen them strangle the man without hesitation. It was something that their expert sniper Lieutenant Holden had called out like an ESPN sports analyst, and they all found themselves cheering on these upstarts.

That had changed once Dr. Underwood, who was listening in on their radio chatter heard them call out mission complete. So with one common enemy gone SG-1 had refocused on staying off the radar of these Colonial forces. This was an easy task, they were a good few miles away from the Colonials as the crow flies, but realistically, the Colonials would have to travel three or four miles through rough terrain to get close enough to be a problem. With the security via distance firmly in place they made their observations, noting that the Colonial forces immediately evacuated their people and then evacuated their prisoners and then loaded up several crates of weapons and other odd items they scavenged from the Al'Kesh. Along with those they loaded up numerous body bags, whether they were pirates or their own civilians SG-1 couldn't tell.

"Colonel," O'Neill's radio piped up, oddly from Dr. Walt, "It might be nothing but would you look to the ridge-line behind you, or…to the Northeast rather, and look out and see if what our geological scans are showing us is true."

"What are the showing you?" Brenda asked before O'Neill could say anything.

"It seems to be a single…pyramid-like structure, well not like any normal one anyway," Walt replied.

"Mind if I borrow one of your guys?" she asked O'Neill, "And I promise I won't do anything stupid."

"Rosario, Newbold, keep an eye on her," O'Neill told them.

"Two? Aren't you generous?" Brenda chuckled as the third in command and one of the two machine gunners ducked down next to her.

"One to carry you if you get hurt or defiant and the other to cover them," O'Neill grinned with satisfaction, getting a scowl from the young blonde in return.

"Come on, let's get this over with," Major Rosario said, tapping Brenda on the back of her armor and yanked her back so they could get moving to get a look at whatever structure was behind them.

The three of them eased away from the ledge and into the maze of rock formations and started traversing their way through. Rosario led the way, her rifle at the ready, Brenda in the middle, and Lieutenant Newbold in the rear with a SAW in hand as he kept a watch for anything behind them. But there was nothing here. The only major obstacle was the slick rock itself.

By now the sun was starting to illuminate things to the point where they had deactivated their night vision, but the thick fog was beginning to close in, and they had a hard time seeing through it at all.

"Be very careful there Brenda," Dr. Ruby Ellis said all of a sudden into her ear, "You're only a few feet from the ledge.

"We can't see it doc," Rosario informed them, "The fog here is thick as hell."

"Well you should be able to see it by now," Dr. Walt informed them, "it's to your north-northwest."

"I don't see shit," Newbold muttered, "Unless we can get above this fog we're not going to get eyes on it."

"Above the fog…" Brenda mumbled to herself, and then looked back behind her to a goliath of a stone pillar, "Hold on to my pack."

"Jackson what're you doing?" Rosario demanded as Brenda unclipped her backpack, letting it fall to the ground before digging out a pair of binoculars with a built-in video camera.

"My job."

"For fuck's sake," Rosario groaned, "I really don't want to order Newbold here to have to carry you back or have to wait several months for a new mission because you broke everything in your legs."

"Don't worry, I've got this," Brenda replied as she began climbing the steep pillar, "Besides," she responded after getting six feet up, "If I break my legs our latest medical advances will fix it up in a few days."

"I'd still have to carry you back," Newbold said, still unhappy with the situation.

"Then catch me, you're a big boy."

"Not my point," the big man grumbled under his breath.

Brenda just ignored him. She had a job to do, and she was determined to do it. Thankfully the rock was almost porous, with ledges and holes burrowed into the rock that gave her fantastic hand holds that she used to pull her way almost twenty feet into the air. And then she broke the fog cover and found herself poking over the blanket of white and looking out to see a forest of black spires jutting up all the way behind her. In front of her was an unnerving sight.

The fog was cascading up and over the sheer cliff like an unstoppable wave that just seemed to drop away into nothing. Several other ranges of mountains also appeared in the distance, albeit much lower than the one she found herself on. But then, she saw it, the object that she'd needed to get eyes on for her cultural expert. Just from the way the light reflected off of its face she knew the whole thing was man-made.

A series of large step-like levels climbing their way up the slope of a solid mountain to her left peaked with what could only be called a complex of boxy buildings with a solid spire in the middle. She pulled the binoculars to her eyes and saw that there were six different levels, all larger than the last with a series of stone pillars arranged around the edges with two central shallow sets of stairs running parallel to each other. And in between these two sets of stairs was a waterfall that cascaded its way down until it dropped into the fog where she couldn't see where it landed.

But what was off about what she seeing was that the pyramid wasn't necessarily complete. It was like it had been carved from the mountain itself. The whole building was of course derelict, not appearing to have been used in thousands of years. The stone was smeared and dirty, there was no color visible from where she was standing, and the whole thing just appeared lifeless.

"Doc," she said excitedly into her mike, "You're gonna love this."

"Guys look out, looks like a Colonial bird is headed right for you," Dr. Underwood said rapidly into the radio.

"Where from?" Rosario immediately asked, going on the alert.

Right as she said that a loud and ominous noise drew her attention to her right and she saw it. Hovering slowly, searchlight shining down onto the pyramid, was a camouflage painted Colonial Raptor. It didn't appear to be searching for them, but its flightpath was moving in a lazy curve, but it was steadily coming right towards them.

"Jackson get down from there now!" Rosario ordered her immediately.

She didn't bother to argue, she knew that staying concealed was critically important at a time like this. So she shimmied down from her perch and landed back on the ground right next to Major Rosario and Lieutenant Newbold who was aiming his weapon right at the Raptor's searchlight which was starting to sweep along the ridgeline. To prevent themselves from being spotted all three of them ducked down behind cover, hiding further into the rock pillar maze.

"It might be time to bug out here," Rosario noted.

"Yeah maybe, there'll be another time," Brenda agreed.

"Hold on," Hailey called out on the radio, "Something's happening. There's a hyperspace window! We've got more company incoming. Underwood you getting this?"

"Three Al'Kesh and a pyramid ship. I guess those pirates must've gotten a call for help out to their buddies," the man responded.

"Now might be a good time to call for some orbital support," someone else added.

"Can't argue with that," O'Neill said, "SG-1 fall back to the gate, double time."

Back with the rest of the military portion of the team O'Neill was listening to all this looked up where the ID tags for the arriving fleet showed up as red dots closing rapidly on the Colonial armada already in orbit. He knew that they needed to get some ships here on the double. They just didn't have a clue as to what the Colonials and these people were going to end up doing to one another.

Major Blanton grabbed Captain Hailey and yanked the petite blonde to her feet, causing her to stumble as she struggled to put her tablet away and get moving while Lieutenants Holden and Gibson brought up the rear, keeping an eye on the sky. They knew that they would be safe from the naked eye thanks to the fog but they would have some trouble navigating. Thankfully the waypoints left for them by Ruby would guide them all the way back.

The group linked up with the other three members who'd detached earlier to take a peek at the pyramid their sensors had gotten a look at and ran forward in a loose column, just staying in visual contact with the person in front of them. They'd just made it to the first waypoint when Underwood about ruptured their eardrums.

"Whoa!" Underwood called out in absolute surprise, "What did those dudes just do?!"

"Underwood, specifics please!" Hailey snapped at him, eager to know what was going on.

"The Colonials, they just blew that pyramid ship apart!" Ruby added, "There was a transmission from the pirates, demanding they surrender but the Colonials answered with a volley from some new weapons that cut clean through it."

"Energy-based?" Brenda asked, panting in between breaths.

"Don't think so, no, it was a hypervelocity cannon. Four of the Colonial warships fired with them."

"The Battlestar?" O'Neill asked from his position in the lead.

"It sent two of them, the other three ships, the cruisers, fired one each. Uh oh, looks like the Al'Kesh don't want anything to do with those Colonials, they're turning tail with a several squadrons of Colonial fighters right behind them."

"What?" O'Neill asked, calling for a full halt.

"Well then," Brenda noted, "Looks like it's a false alarm."

"False alarm my ass," O'Neill grumbled, "These guys are more capable than we thought. We need to get the word back to the SGC about this."

"No argument here," Brenda chuckled, "This is already turning out way more exciting than I'd originally thought."

"Guys I think you've been made!" Ruby called into their headsets, "The Colonial frequencies are saying they've spotted something."

"Oh come on!"

"There's several Raptors starting to sweep and a foot patrol is moving your way," Underwood called out, "Looks like they picked you up on thermals."

"I thought these things kept us off of any thermal scans?" Holden demanded.

"Not all of it," Hailey piped up, "The armor covers the core and extremities but if you don't have the complete helmet attachment on your faces can still be seen. But someone would have to be looking really carefully at a close magnification."

"It wasn't heat they picked up on," Underwood said, realizing what is was, "The rocks. They're warming up and the armor isn't. As you pass the rocks it's movement, and they're seeing that."

O'Neill was taking all of this in calmly, his mind working over the situation like a pro.

"Do they see us now?" he asked Underwood.

"No, they're sweeping an area where they think they saw something, but you're in that area."

"You guys wanted to prove yourselves?" O'Neill asked with a smile and pulled the action of his rifle back, "Now's your chance. Welcome to SG-1."

**I think that's as good a place to leave it as any don't you? Well of course you guys want to see more and I don't blame you. Personally I'm in the same boat, but I've had three beers and a long day so I'll leave it here and work on the next chapter as soon as I can. Hopefully I'll get it done before Christmas and on Christmas I'll have something very special for you all. And I'm saying this on all my stories this December, as politically incorrect as it is but fuck that.**

**May you all have a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year.**

**Next Chapter Preview: Cat and Mouse in the fog and the titans of Earth and the Colonies face off once more.**


	11. Christmas Update

**This will not be a normal chapter everyone. Instead, read this. You'll figure it out.**

A Soldier's Silent Night

Written by Lance Corporal James M. Schmidt

'Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone

In a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone

I had come down the chimney with presents to give

And to see just who in this home did live.

I looked all about, a strange sight I did see

No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree

No stocking by the mantle, just boots filled with sand

On the wall hung pictures of far distant lands.

With medals and badges, awards of all kinds

A sober thought came through my mind

For this house was different, it was dark and dreary

I found the home of a soldier, once I could see clearly.

The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone

Curled up on the floor in this one bedroom home

The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder

Not how I pictured a United States soldier.

Was this the hero of whom I'd just read?

Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?

I realized the families that I saw this night

Owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.

Soon round the world, the children would play

And grownups would celebrate a bright Christmas day

They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year

Because of the soldiers, like the one lying here.

I couldn't help wonder how many lay alone

On a cold Christmas Eve in a land far from home

The very thought brought a tear to my eye

I dropped to my knees and started to cry.

The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice

"Santa don't cry, this life is my choice;

I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more

My life is my God, my country, My Corps".

The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep

I couldn't control it, I continued to weep

I kept watch for hours, so silent and still

And we both shivered from the cold night's chill.

I didn't want to leave on that cold, dark night

This guardian of honor so willing to fight

The soldier rolled over, with a voice soft and pure

Whispered, "Carry on Santa, it's Christmas day, all is secure".

One look at my watch and I knew he was right

Merry Christmas my friend, and to all a good night.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 10

Location: Battlestar _Pegasus_

Date: February 8, 2025

Time: 1000 Zulu

"What do we got?" Cain managed to get out as the bridge settled into Action Stations.

"Four vessels holding position. Alert Vipers launched and all ships are in Defense Formation Alpha," Colonel Belzen called out, handing over control of the bridge to his Admiral, "Same FTL signatures we encountered right before the war."

"Same FTL?" Cain asked, "Are you certain?"

"Yes ma'am, but they're different ships. All of them smaller than the one we destroyed. Three of them match what we've got captured on the planet. The fourth is…pyramid shaped, almost perfectly identical," Belzen replied, handing over a pad that the Colonials were able to use to showcase information they needed on a rapidly available and handy device.

Admiral Cain looked at the image, seeing the golden triangle hovering there with three smaller vessels around it. She recognized the basic look at that of the Cylon vessel her battle group had destroyed several years earlier and her breath caught in her throat. But that didn't last long, as back then only the Pegasus had upgrades and weapons that made that victory possible. This time, her whole fleet had those upgrades, with the exception being the destroyers and Marinestar who didn't have rail guns. Needless to say, she was confident that this time no Colonial warships would be destroyed. But she couldn't be too sure.

"Any fighters of their own?" Cain demanded.

"Negative Admiral, they arrived a few minutes ago and haven't moved since."

"Alright, all cruisers acquire firing solutions on the central vessel, destroyers to focus on the other three," Cain ordered, "Nuclear weapons are authorized, launch on my command only."

"Aye sir," her communications officer called out immediately and relayed the orders.

"Our forces didn't report any signs of Cylons in that ship," Belzen grumbled, his mind churning over the facts, "But the Cylons clearly had something like these ships."

"Focus Colonel, we'll leave the analysis to Fleet Intelligence," Cain firmly said as Belzen thought his suspicions aloud.

"Sir, incoming message from the unknown vessel."

"Well Colonel," Cain said, "Let's see how close your suspicions are put it through to me."

"Aye sir."

Cain picked up the phone but she was surprised at what she heard. A male voice was speaking in a language she didn't quite understand, which made her furrow her brow in confusion as to what to say. She didn't understand a word this man was saying, but the tone of his voice was unmistakable. He wanted a fight. The Colonials had gone and attacked one of their ships so it was simple to put two and two together for her.

"Charge rail guns one and two," Cain ordered, "Full power to forward defense fields. If those pirates want a war we'll give 'em a war."

The bridge snapped into action, they knew there was going to be a fight today, and all were confident of victory. They outnumbered their opponents quite solidly, nineteen ships with several hundred Vipers and Raptors ready for combat, their opponents had four ships, only one of which seemed to be much of a threat to them. The fleet was in a defensive position, ready to blast their opponents the moment they made a threatening move.

"Hostiles are moving towards us," her DRADIS operator called out.

"We're not letting them fire first," Cain said, "All cruisers to fire their rail guns after us."

"Aye sir."

"Lieutenant," Cain said, "Do we have a firing solution?"

"Yes sir," the man said confidently, "Guns one and two are ready to fire on your command."

"Distance to target?" Cain demanded.

"Ninety-eight thousand meters," the man replied.

"Well in range…" she said confidently, "Fire at will."

"Yes sir, safeties off, weapon's hot. Firing in three, two, one. Fire."

A shudder went through the Pegasus as the two tungsten darts zipped away in a blazing white bolt of light. Immediately after three other identical bolts lanced out from the cruisers. The pyramid-like vessel had no chance against the five bolts that struck in closely timed impacts. The golden shield flashed into view as the two bolts from the Pegasus smashed into it and then shuddered as the bolt from one of the light cruisers struck it and then shattered as the heavy cruiser's bolt cut clean through it and smashed into the center of the vessel, effectively knocking out the pyramid ship. A shock wave emanated from the impact as fire gutted through the ship. But then the second light cruiser's bolt lanced right through the upper hull, shattering the entire tip of the ship and sending it spinning and ripping pieces off as explosions destroyed the wreckage into an unrecognizable mass of twisted and charred metal.

"Well that was easy," Colonel Belzen chuckled.

"Not over yet, all Vipers and Raptors engage the rest of those ships, hunt 'em down. Try to disable them, Fleet Intelligence will want as much to work with as they can since that other ship is unsalvageable," Cain noted.

"Sir, hostile ships are falling back, fighters are pursuing."

"Very well," Cain responded, seeing the many Vipers on DRADIS going after the enemy ships. She did a quick count of the Vipers in pursuit, coming out with seven full squadrons.

"Sir," the communications officer called out, "Flash message from the planet. They're detecting something on their thermals. It's hard to say for sure but the Marines are reporting movement in the ridges outside their perimeter."

"Some sort of hostiles arrive in orbit and then we get movement on the ground?" Belzen noted, "I don't think this is coincidence."

"I agree," Cain said, leaning on the table, "Better get our commandoes back down there."

"They're already down there sir."

"Very well," Cain responded with a nod, "I want prisoners. Whoever they are I want them alive. But I won't be too disappointed with more dead pirates."

There were a few chuckles from the other bridge crew who were all in a sort of high from another victory against advanced warships. That high was about to end. They could see that their Vipers were steadily gaining on their three sluggish opponents who were very much trying desperately to evade their opponents. But with as many Vipers and Raptors pursuing them as there were they really had no chance.

The first of them was struck by a trigger-happy Viper from the Pegasus who struck the triangular vessel with a pair of missiles that blew apart the rear engines and caused the vessel to tumble into the atmosphere and explode and rip itself apart as it hit the atmosphere. The next two vessels split up, their weapons firing globs of explosive plasma back at the mass of Colonial Vipers as they all opened fire with their own missiles that struck both craft. The slower of the two vessels was hit by a volley of eight missiles and had its rear section effectively ripped into shreds as it tumbled and spun into orbit.

The third had a trio of missiles strike it right in between the two dual engines and the craft lost power as a gout of flame rushed from the many hull breaches as the craft lost power and all hull integrity. The Vipers all surrounded the two craft, many wanting to squeeze the triggers on their weapons to be able to claim kills of their own. But the massacre of a battle was over. These pirates hadn't known what they were in for when they'd arrived in orbit. And they had paid dearly for it.

But the Colonials, in their excellent display of military prowess had brought some unwanted attention upon themselves. The pirates they'd just crushed were just the tip of the iceberg of what was a massive criminal empire more dangerous than the one their old enemies, the Cylons, had aligned themselves with. This fact was something the Colonials were about to find out for themselves. But they were about to meet someone else. A force they'd met before, and one they'd feared.

Location: Unknown Planet, Several Miles from Recon One Base Camp

Colonel Black knew it was a gamble to not return to base. But with so much being found here he felt the risks had so far been worth it. And Admiral Queen back at base had agreed with him so here they were still in place on this planet. They had changed over to small exploration parties of four, two troops guarding two of the team's scientists out on more exploring missions. At the moment there were two teams out and about, one team being the two biologists and the other being the two geologists.

With the two geologists as they examined an exposed streambed were two of the more experienced Colonial troops, Lieutenant Robin Bragg and Gunnery Sergeant Charles Bradley. Bradley, the larger and more experienced of the two, had a SAW in hand, more comfortable with some more formidable firepower. Meanwhile Bragg had a full-sized assault rifle with a grenade launcher attached **(Think G36. Starbuck used one in the Rescue on Caprica)**. The two geologists, Dr. Denise Hepler and Dr. Natasha Hart, were carefully examining a solid wall of stone with many layers etched into it like a wavy rainbow of natural toned hues. And they seemed to be quite content to just sit there and work in absolute calm.

"Anything new sir?" Bradley asked the young lieutenant who was standing on the top of the bank as he walked up next to her.

"Nothing, they're still digging," she responded, adjusting her sunglasses a bit, "Find anything on your perimeter sweep?"

"A couple game trails with some old tracks, that's about it," he replied with a shrug.

"Frakking heat," Lieutenant Bragg grumbled, "I'd bet Warren's right at home right now."

"Yeah, he's said he's already gotten to tranq a few critters and the eggheads say they want one of those deer to study," Bradley responded as he looked down at the scientists doing their work. But they'd heard him.

"What's this about eggheads?" Dr. Hart piped up from where she was panning in the stream, looking at different sediments that came up.

"Oh that's what we're being called now," Dr. Hepler chuckled as she chipped away at the large rock way, gathering samples for study.

"Well yeah," Bradley said affirmatively, "At least until you do something…not like an egghead."

"So what if I saved your life? Or…" Dr. Hart said, leaning down to check what was in her pan and then laughed out loud.

"Or what?"

"Or made you rich?" she said with a beaming smile.

"What're you talking about rich?" Bragg asked.

"I think I've got a theory why that creature was here. Gold."

"Gold?!" Dr. Hepler yelped, "Let me see that."

The other more experienced scientist hopped over the thin stream and kneeled down next to her assistant. She pulled out a small magnet and held it over the grains of small golden nuggets and sure enough, it wasn't magnetic.

"Wow interesting, very interesting," Hepler mumbled, "And you just panned it out?"

"Yeah, I've been at it for only a few minutes so there must be a substantial deposit up there," the younger scientist replied.

"Wonder if we can get a cut from this score," Bragg chuckled.

"I wouldn't be so sure, Lieutenant failed chemistry," Hart giggled.

"Hey, it was on the spur of the moment and I realized what I said after I said it. I'm not stupid," the young officer snapped back.

"Sure, we get it, that's why you're a soldier," Hepler poked once again.

"You…" Bragg stuttered, not liking the humor everyone was getting out of her own slip of the tongue yesterday.

"Better stop while you're ahead sir," Bradley laughed, "You're not gonna make it any better by fighting."

"Frak it, I'm gonna head downstream a ways and see what's there," she finally snapped, "I'll be in contact."

"Don't go too far eltee," Bradley reminded her.

"You know I won't!" she waved him off as she hopped down to the stream and began walking down the rocky streambed.

"Some thin skin on that one," Hepler said as she deposited the gold grains into a specimen capsule.

"Yeah maybe," Bradley said as she disappeared around the corner of the stream with rifle in hand, "But she's been getting a hard time from some of the rest of the team for that gold quip."

"Ah, had enough of it all?"

"Yeah pretty much, some of the people we have in section two are injured as you know so they're bored and she's a bit of a target right now. There's only so much you can take, no matter how thick your skin is."

"Fair enough," the younger of the two scientists shrugged.

With that all three of them fell into a moment of silence as they all continued their work. Sergeant Bradley kept a constant look-out for anything wrong nearby. There wasn't anything they couldn't take anything out here for granted. It could be dangerous, or it could be perfectly harmless. The Colonials' best just couldn't and wouldn't take that chance. But the two geologists were just having too much fun and were so intrigued with their work that five minutes passed before they knew it.

"You wanna take a look at this?" Dr. Hepler said after the silence became too much to bear for her.

"Look at what?" Bradley asked, looking down as Dr. Hepler walked over to her stack of equipment under a pop-up tent she and her assistant had painstakingly set up when they'd arrived.

"Here," she called over, and tossed over a vial of golden nuggets and small grains of the valuable material.

"Wow," the man replied, "That's amazing. And this is all gold?"

"Send it to the Treasury and they'd turn it into cubits," Dr. Hart said as she cleaned off her pan and tossed it over to the rest of her equipment.

"How much you think?"

"That amount wouldn't make more than a few chips. Although they do have a classified makeup, it's well-known they're not pure gold. More like a large amount of many metals to keep it from being counterfeited."

"Well yeah, but the price of gold right now is…what? Eighty cubits?"

"I'm a geologist, not a banker sarge."

"Yeah fair enough," the big man responded, dropping the vial back down to them.

"Bradley," the voice of his Lieutenant called out as she returned.

"Lieutenant?"

"Didn't see a thing down there," she shrugged as she looked at her watch, "It's about time to head back. It's a few hours until nightfall and I'd bet we've got an hour walk after a good ten minutes or so getting your equipment packed."

"More or less," the two scientists replied.

"Get going, we've gotta move," Lieutenant Bragg replied.

"Better hurry," Bradley said calmly, "We're being watched."

Bragg gripped her rifle tighter, and looked out into the surrounding forest. There was nothing but dry desert highland forest as far as the eye could see. The sky was still devoid of clouds, just the same light blue heat of a desert. They could sense something wrong, although what exactly it was they didn't know.

"Where?" she asked.

"No telling," he shook his head, "But we're being watched. No question about it, I can feel it."

"Keep an eye out," Bragg whispered and then turned around and keyed her radio, "Bragg to base camp."

"Base camp," it was Captain Stinson, the team XO, "Go ahead Lieutenant."

"Sir, we're on our way back to base camp. ETA two hours. But Gunnery Sergeant Bradley believes we're being watched. I believe him, something's not right."

"That's about what we're feeling here too," the man replied, "Better hurry up Lieutenant. We're headed back tonight."

"Roger sir. Let's move it you two!"

Back at base Colonel Black had been listening as the base camp was being packed up. The team had realized they'd acquired enough data to be able to return and keep their scientists busy. This was especially true of the weapons that they'd acquired from the cave up in the mesa above their camp. They also had a few other trinkets and odds and ends in the numerous crates that Dr. Cruz was eager to dive into and figure out what they were and how they worked.

"That's the last of the science teams," he called out to Agent Fraser as he was helping his medical specialists pack up.

"ETA?" Fraser asked as he tightened the strap around one of the cases of medical equipment.

"Around two hours," the Colonel replied, "We should be ready to go by then and your biologists should be back by then as well."

"They should be getting back at around the same time actually," Fraser nodded, remembering that the other team they had out doing research was on its way back as well, "We'll be ready to head out by then."

"Good," Colonel Black responded.

They'd completely broken down their camp in the past few hours since sunrise. All their wheeled cargo drones had been packed up and their equipment and tents were stowed for the most part. Around half of the remaining military members of the team had kept watch while staying heavily armed and ready in the event anything else came around. So far the most that had happened was a deer herd had found itself challenged by one of the Colonial sentries and frightened off.

This was about it really. Ever since Team One had their nasty encounter with that alien creature the day before they hadn't had a single hostile or dangerous encounter. Granted half team one was incapacitated, at least according to their living dictionary of a medical specialist, Dr. Alyosha, but they still stood armed and ready anyway.

However one thing had changed, the team dynamic. Agent Fraser had been with the group that had engaged the alien that had roughed them up yesterday. More than that he'd stood his ground, buying time to allow the military members to fall back. This was something that Colonel Black and the rest of the team had taken notice of. They'd all taken Fraser as a classic example of a civilian spook, someone who had a shady past and didn't care about anything or anyone as long as the objective was accomplished. So the fact he stuck his neck out for the team had proven that they could count on him.

So needless to say Colonel Black's initial skepticism was abated with the knowledge that Agent Fraser was no coward and no fool. But as for the rest of the team…they had yet to be figured out.

"Colonel," it was Captain Fredericks, his Team Two leader. He'd just walked over and saluted after debriefing a group of four of his own troops who'd just returned from a short look around, "Patrol's back, no signs of activity."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," a strange deep voice called out to them.

"Holy frak!" Captain Fredericks yelled out, drawing his carbine and aiming it at the source of the voice, standing tall behind Colonel Black and Agent Fraser.

They both turned around to see something quite familiar, at least to those that had seen it before. A massive bipedal creature covered head to toe in thick black hair. It was as solidly built as the finest athletes but its rippling musculature was hidden beneath the thick coating of fur. Its eyes however seemed to hold a more gentle and almost human look to them. It took the Colonials to figure it out but looking at it they would swear the expression on its face was amused.

"Hold your fire!" Colonel Black ordered his troops who moved to surround the mammoth beast.

"It's alright," the creature seemed to speak once more, but oddly its lips didn't move but their ears could make out the words, "I expected this reaction."

"Wouldn't exactly help much if we'd shot you would it?" Fraser replied, "Last I checked we owe you."

"Yes you do," the thing replied, "Although I still owe you for that encounter with a member of my species. I understand he injured several of your people."

"Speaking of that," Colonel Black piped up, "Why did he attack my team?"

"He's a criminal. I've been hunting him for many cycles, he's killed a great many, Humans, Jaffa, life has no meaning to his kind."

"That would explain that cave," Fraser said to Colonel Black as Dr. Beverly finally arrived and straightened out his uniform and stepped forward to stand next to the other two senior Colonials.

"Yes, the items you recovered, although mostly primitive by our standards will serve you well in advancing your people technologically," it responded, giving them a courteous nod.

"Speaking of our people," Dr. Beverly now interrupted, "If I may?"

"You may," it replied with another nod.

"How do you know of the Twelve Colonies?"

"Two reasons," it said, "The first, many among my species are telepathic, to varying degrees of course. I have inherited this gift. I can do two of the four telepathic signs; I can listen to your thoughts and feelings, and I can speak to you."

"Telepathy," Dr. Beverly breathed in wonder, "How extraordinary."

"Indeed," it replied, "The second reason I know of the people of Kobol is simple. We were there when your people were saved by those you call the Lords of Kobol. And I'm sorry to say this but they were hardly deities."

Colonel Black glanced a look to Dr. Beverly. He knew he was a religious scholar and a priest. So this declaration from this…thing, was bound to trigger a reaction and it did. But not the one many would have thought. Dr. Beverly's face didn't twist into one of anger. Instead, he cocked his head slightly as if hearing a new fact and his face was etched in curiosity, as if he wanted to know more.

"And who are your people?" he asked carefully.

"One of the four. We are the Furlings, an ancient and powerful race that for millions of years helped guide the galaxies towards a brighter future. Or, we used to be."

"Galaxies?" Fraser piped up.

"Yes, to be one of the four Great Races you needed to have clear and undeniable goal, help others. We tried this, but one of our ventures went terribly wrong many years ago, nearly leading to the extinction of our race and the rise of a terrible evil."

This declaration definitely got their attention. And Colonel Black knew that he needed to know more.

"Can you repeat that?" Colonel Black demanded.

"Colonel," Dr. Beverly snapped, bringing his cane up to the Colonel's chest, as if holding him back, "I would watch your tone my lad. We mustn't make ourselves out to be…hostile."

"I understand Doctor," the creature said, holding up a hand which caused the other troops gradually moving to surround him to flinch, "Don't bother with your weapons. I'm not actually here."

"What do you mean?" Fraser asked.

"Toss something at me," he replied.

Colonel Black took up the challenge, leaning down and grasped a rock and lobbed it over at him. The small stone passed right through the hologram without pause, landing with a puff of dry dust at the feet of two Colonial troops.

"Now isn't that something?" Fraser grumbled, "More for Cruz to drool over."

"Satisfied?" the creature demanded in a tone that was purposely mirrored to reflect that of Colonel Black.

"Stand down," he ordered his troops.

"Ah, where are my manners?" Dr. Beverly scoffed at himself, "What do we call you?"

"I doubt you could say it in your tongue. But you may refer to me as Ijax."

"Ijax," Beverly whispered, "It wouldn't happen to have roots in the name Ajax would it?"

"No it wouldn't, it was something another planet's human population referred to my people as."

"Another human populated world?"

"You may find this odd, but there are many, tens of thousands of planets with populations of humans living in ways that cannot be found anywhere else."

"How?" Fraser asked.

"It's possible that those who refused to leave on the arks on Kobol went through the ring at the Gate of Hera to these other worlds. From there they went to others, and so on and so on," Beverly began, his mind working through the many different possibilities.

"It is possible, but doubtful," Ijax interjected, "Most human worlds were populated with the descendants of Earth by the Gou'ald."

"I'm sorry, Earth? And…the what?" Fraser stuttered, taking in as much as he could.

"You'll learn much of this in time. But I can give you a short summary of what happened. The Gou'ald are a parasitic race that took humans as hosts, controlling them and assuming the roles of deities from Earth and Kobol. Some humans were simply slaves, others were biologically engineered to become the Jaffa. From there, with the might of their Jaffa armies they waged an endless war against one another."

"And these…Gou'ald," Colonel Black asked, "Were they the evil you spoke about earlier?"

"No, the Gou'ald occurred hundreds of years after our mistakes in creating a human caretaker power for this galaxy."

"So…these Gou'ald? Are they a threat?"

Ijax simply smiled, "Not anymore. For that you can thank Earth."

"Earth?" was the resounding question that every single Colonial asked aloud or in their heads.

"There's too much to tell in one sitting my friends. In fact, I may have said too much already. Our laws have a very…strict protocol for first contact with human entities, especially ones on the brink such as yours."

"Well we've certainly gotten a lot to think about," Dr. Beverly said calmly, "We also would ask for a…way to contact you. Just so we can learn more on our own terms."

"Already done that," Ijax replied, "And due to the circumstances involving our contact I have also given you a medical device that will repair the damage that has been done by that criminal."

"Where?" Fraser asked.

"In the same place as you have placed the other items you have collected."

"Well, cuts out the middle man," Fraser grumbled, knowing they'd still examine it for any safety hazards.

"With that," Ijax said, "I bid you farewell and good luck. You've got a lot to learn."

"Hold on," Fraser called out, "There's still a lot that you haven't told us."

"I know, but like any great civilization you'll have to find these things out yourself. If you can handle it, you'll prove your worth."

Unknown Planet, Mountain Highlands

Major Damecles wasn't surprised to get the call to go into the maze of ridges and forest that surrounded their base camp. His team of commandoes was still on the ground when one of their roving Raptors had seen an anomaly in the hills. Naturally Admiral Cain had ordered he and his ten man team into the hills with ample air support from a pair of Marine Raptors and four Vipers.

They'd boarded the two Raptors and were flying over the mist shrouded mountains, about to fast rope into the area to search out the area. They still wore their all-black uniforms and had their silenced rifles and combat gear. But things were about to get odd.

"Major," the ECO called out, "I don't think we're going to be much help to you sir. My scans are all over the place. Thermals aren't working, DRADIS is too sketchy to risk low level flight. I'd say we're being hit with ECM."

He looked at the screen the man was working on. Everything was pretty rough, static going back and forth, messing up the picture. And obvious sign of ECM being used against them.

"Alright, we'll leave our marksmen in overwatch with you guys. Keep a circuit going to give my people something to look out for," Damecles responded to the Marine flyboy.

"Aye sir," the man responded.

"Skulls we're fast-roping in. Marksmen, you're with the Raptors on overwatch," Damecles ordered, "Strap in, get yourselves some ear protection, I want eyes in the air, looks like we're being jammed."

"Roger that sir," the sniper in his Raptor responded, popping open the box which held the equipment needed for a sniper to set themselves up in a Raptor.

He immediately snapped a strong safety wire to his vest and hooked his rifle to his chest and grabbed a spare set of headphones that had a wireless link built into them. But he had to take off his helmet to do this. This left him with his goggles and his black and white balaclava. He and the other sniper in his commando unit were their eyes in the sky now. They'd be sitting on a special modified seat on the left wing of the Raptors with rifles aimed down and out, able to see and pick out anything in their lines of sight. And if need be, they could neutralize those targets.

"We're over a flat spot Major," the pilot called out to him.

"Ropes!" he ordered loudly, and the already strapped in fast-rope was picked up and the trap-door into the Raptor's floor was opened and the rope's bag was dropped right through the opening where it disappeared into the mist and smacked into the hard rock below. So he pulled his balaclava over his face and placed his goggles over his eyes, now ready for whatever may come.

Major Damelces was the first one through. He gripped the thick rope and slid all the way down, feeling the chill of the moist air and the contrasting hot wind of the Raptor's hovering exhaust nozzles keeping the beast afloat. He hit the rock, and pulled his rifle to his shoulder and moved forward aiming right out towards the thick mist that could have hidden anything. He was instantly second guessing the need to have his marksmen up in the Raptors judging by how thick the mist around them was.

But as his men hit the ground around them he was pulled back into his mission. They were going to have to make due. The conditions here were bad, he knew this, but that's why the Skulls had gone in. This was a job for the best.

"Skull-4 down," he said calmly.

"Skull-3 down," he heard his CAC respond as the man came right next to him, rifle at the ready.

A few seconds later he heard the same calls from the rest of his team hitting the dirt around him. He now knew all twelve men and women were here and accounted for. They now had their mission to accomplish. They waited a moment, prone and ready for any hostile contact while their Raptors climbed away. But when they were gone the commandoes moved forward.

"Skull-1 flank left, Skull-2 flank right, begin your sweeps on my mark," he ordered to his team leaders, he then flipped his "Able-1-6, what's the ETA on your Marines?"

He was contacting a platoon-sized force of Marines that were now on their way up the hills on foot. Their call-sign was Able.

"Skull-6, Able-1-6, we're twenty minutes out," the lieutenant responded, "Ables two, three, and four are oscar mike right behind us. ETA forty-five minutes."

"Very well Able-1-6. Any victors able to support us?"

"Negative Skull-6, terrain's too rough."

"We'll have to do this the hard way then," Major Damecles responded off the radio, "Very well Able. We're proceeding with our sweep. Set up another net behind us in case we miss those contacts."

"Able-1-6, roger that."

Damecles then looked side to side, seeing his team ready to move forward, their rifles and machine guns aimed forward. He then waved them forward, silence was now the rule of the day. And now, they moved forward. What it was that was in front of them was completely unknown, but they weren't afraid, that came after.

**Well, that's it for this one. I'll start on the next chapter as soon as I can. But I have a few other stories I need to update so we'll see how long it takes. Hopefully it won't take too long. In the meantime, let me know how this one turned out, I thought it was a big one I really hope it lived to your expectations.**

**Next Chapter Preview: The Galactica returns and the Arrow shows the way. **


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Location: P5X-359

Date: February 8, 2025

Time: 1030 Hours

"They've got a lot of troops deployed from those craft," Hailey grumbled under her breath.

"Now they're on a search pattern, looking for us," Major Blanton noted, "This won't be easy."

"Way to inspire confidence," O'Neill said with a roll of his eyes.

"Or we can, I don't know, talk to them?" Brenda suggested once again.

"Give it a rest Jackson," Rosario growled with a snide tone over her shoulder.

SG-1 was in a pickle. They were on some high ground amongst the stone pillars, waiting for a plan to be put into action. However there was a problem here that didn't have an easy solution. They couldn't engage these Colonials, lest they start up a war that no one wanted. But the Colonials had created a thick net sweeping forward with more coming up in a hurry. On top of that they had no air cover and no clearance to do anything about it.

"Blanton, how many Intar rounds do we have?" O'Neill asked.

"We've each got a two magazines and Newbold and Gibson each have a full belt," Blanton responded.

"Change mags," he ordered, "Jackson, drop your magazine in your pistol and switch on your stunner.

"What're you thinking?" Brenda asked, curiosity evident in her tone.

"We're moving, and if needed we'll incapacitate any threats so we can get past them and make a break for the Stargate."

"I hate to poke holes in your plan but the Colonials don't have stun weapons like ours and don't know we mean no harm."

"Well no permanent harm anyway," Lieutenant Holden chuckled as she locked and loaded a fresh Intar loaded magazine.

At that moment a Raptor's searchlight flooded the area to the left of SG-1, the loud engine of the craft quite loud as it hovered around in their search pattern. They all did a quick double take at their HUD's which had the clearly marked life signs of the Colonials advancing on them. Each of them ducked down behind some form of cover, weapons aimed at the craft as it passed harmlessly over them.

"We need to get going sir," Rosario suggested.

"Roger that," O'Neill nodded, "We're going through the middle, weapons hot. I don't want us to be cornered against that cliff."

"We'll lead," Major Blanton volunteered, "Gibson, Hailey, on me. Underwood, distance?"

"Colonials are fifty meters and closing," Dr. Underwood replied from the cave where he was keeping careful track of the ground while their other tech specialist Dr. Ellis watched the skies, "Better hurry guys, they've got forty more guys coming up on foot."

"Alright copy that Underwood," O'Neill responded, "Captain Pauley."

"Yes sir."

"If we're compromised and can't rendezvous with you return to the SGC and report. We've got the word out and the _Challenger_ Battle Group is mustering and awaiting an emergency signal," he ordered his subordinate, "Don't worry about us."

"If we've got a Battle Carrier on standby why haven't they showed up?" Brenda asked.

"We don't want to make things worse," O'Neill responded, "The Colonials are on high alert and are in no mood to make peaceful contact. Protocol with these guys is to effectively catch them in a good mood."

"So we're leaving?"

O'Neill hesitated a bit, his eyes wandering off as he thought about it before responding.

"Yeah."

Brenda pursed her lips as she fumed through her nostrils. This was clearly not what she wanted to have happen. Her job was to lead SG/E-1, the civilian portion of the team, in scientific, cultural, and diplomatic missions. To her this was a diplomatic matter that needed to be handled with kid gloves but needed to be handled all the same. So the fact that Colonel O'Neill was saying run away was not sitting well with her.

"Fine, but I want a shot at these guys. I know I can help make things right," Brenda growled.

"You won't if you get yourself shot," O'Neill snapped as he looked up as a second Raptor made another slow moving pass nearby and turned her around and pushed her forward, "Now move it."

He shoved her forward behind Lieutenant Holden who was right behind the walking wedge with Major Blanton in the lead with Lieutenants Gibson and Captain Hailey to his right and left. They knew that there might be some flare up here and at any moment they'd be in contact with the Colonials who were closing the distance between them. The military portion of the team knew this was a particularly dangerous situation but with the element of surprise and knowledge of the Colonials positions they felt confident enough to move forward to sneak past them.

"Distance twenty meters," Blanton whispered.

Each of them was now on a heightened state of awareness. All of their senses were carefully tuned, their eyes were carefully tracking the IFF's of their friends and the red signals of their hunters. Their ears were tuned to every footfall, extremely uncomfortable with any noise that they perceived themselves to be making. They even glanced a look down to make sure they didn't step on anything loose or slick, lest they fall and give away their positions.

"Eyes on two to the right," Gibson whispered all of a sudden.

Indeed he did. What he was seeing was a pair of Colonial troops creeping forward, their postures rigid and alert. Their short carbines were tucked tight to their shoulders, carefully sweeping back and forth, one behind the other as they moved off to the right of the SG Team.

"Stay down," O'Neill barely breathed, gently pushing Brenda down against a stone pillar.

"Three on our left," Hailey said, ducking down with her rifle aiming at the silhouettes of three more Colonials moving in a line moving forward on their left.

"Two in front," Blanton called out lastly, seeing two more Colonials come around a column less than ten meters ahead of them.

The distance was extremely uncomfortable for the Earth team. They'd seen them coming all the way in but they hadn't really seen them. The fog was as thick as it could be and masked them so well that it was almost a burden as they themselves couldn't actually see the line of Colonials until they were just about on top of them. However this gave them the head start to duck into cover and disappear into the dark shapes of the stone pillars.

SG-1 was split into two parts right now. One part, with Major Blanton, Captain Hailey, and Lieutenant Gibson, was out front, with Hailey split off, hiding behind a smaller pillar in a low crouch. Blanton and Gibson were both behind a large wide stone formation that was like a table, with two pillars holding up a large flat table-like bed of stone above them. Gibson had his M-506 SAW ready to fire downrange with Blanton and Hailey likewise ready to fire with their own Intar loaded M-501's. The other half of SG-1, with Colonel O'Neill hovering protectively over Brenda was immediately behind Major Rosario and Lieutenant Newbold, with his M-506, who were all taking cover behind their own pillars with weapons aimed out. Each was ready to support the forward three members of the team.

The whole attitude of the terrain was sloping downhill towards the Colonials, with a gentle flow with some steps in the rocks that required careful negotiation as there were sometimes puddles and slick moss that might cause a slip or fall and potential injury or worse, audible disturbance.

O'Neill knew this situation was bad. The Colonials were spaced quite tightly, within visual range of one another all along their steadily progressing front. They wouldn't be able to sneak past them. Somehow SG-1 would have to disrupt and open up a hole in their front without alerting their hunters. But time to do this was running short, as Major Blanton and his team were able to hear the carefully measured footfalls of the advancing Colonials and even hear the shuffling of the gear on their chests.

Hailey sneaked a peek at the three Colonials to their left, seeing only two of them this time. This alerted the young Captain instantly. She knew the other one was somewhere, but the life sign was not in visual range. Before she could look around the corner of her piece of cover the muzzle of the silenced carbine of a Colonial Commando came around the corner above her barely six feet away from her nose. The weapon swept around the corner, and Hailey shuffled carefully away, trying to stay small. The Colonial was so close that Hailey could see each detail on the man. She saw the chest pockets holding spare magazines on his vest, the slight bulges of magnets in the fabric holding them closed. She even saw the hand-painted balaclava over his face that created a whitish colored skull over his nose to his mouth with a pair of goggles strapped over his eyes and helmet. The two were so close that she even heard the radio piece in his ears and the whisper of the lone Colonial as he responded to something into the thin mouth piece near his lips that started from one of the ear pieces covering his ears.

"Skull-Six, Skull-Two, no eyes," was what she heard, "We haven't seen anything yet."

Brenda could see just how close they were now. Hailey was only feet from a Colonial Commando who was sweeping ahead of the rest of his comrades. At any moment he'd turn and look down to see Hailey, who would get the first shot off with a fully-charged Intar round. But the discharge of that would set off a firefight.

At that moment O'Neill took action. He tossed a rock, hoping the cliché would actually work. It somehow did. The clacking of the rock hitting a stone pillar way off to their left got the attention of the Colonials, who jerked their weapons in the direction of the disturbance and the ones on the left rushed forward to cover from the source of the disturbance.

"Can't believe that worked," O'Neill chuckled quietly.

"Glad it did," Brenda agreed, allowing the breath to leave her lungs as she realized she'd been holding her breath.

Captain Hailey sighed heavily, the possibility of her being discovered thankfully lessened. With a short salute she gave the Colonel her thanks and then moved back to cover. Lieutenant Gibson had watched the near-miss, and had been equally engrossed in the extremely tense encounter. But when he looked back he noticed a green line was coming from the rifle of one of the Colonials and it had come to rest on his arm. He saw that the two Colonials in front of he and Major Blanton had seen his outline as they'd gotten closer, and now had confirmation they were looking at something alive. Before any of SG-1 could do anything one came around the corner between he and the now alert Major Blanton, the silencer of his rifle to Gibson's face.

"Hands where I can see them," the Colonial Commando ordered Gibson, surprise not evident in his tone, but a terse sincerity was.

But Blanton came to his SAW gunner's defense, and tapped on the shoulder of the Colonial. The man turned his head, and saw the looming he-man like figure of Major Blanton right behind him.

"How's it goin'?" Blanton sarcastically asked before firing an Intar round from his rifle into the Colonial's back.

The powerful round struck the Colonial's Kevlar vest but still easily transferred its disabling energy into the man's nervous system. He tensed instantly, groaning painfully as he collapsed slowly to the ground. But Blanton knew there was another one coming and pulled out his M-502 Assault Pistol with right hand and as he pulled it out of its holster he brought up his elbow and popped the rushing Colonial in the face with it as he came around the corner. The blow was powerful, and thanks in part to the rush of the Commando coming around and the slick conditions the man was on the ground and easy pickings for Blanton to stun with the reverse engineered Wraith stunner attached under the end of his weapon.

As the man went rigid from the blast the Colonials came running to the sound of the guns and Earth unit knew they'd have to make a run for it.

"Go!" O'Neill ordered, pulling Brenda up and rushed her forward, seeing no hostile life signs ahead of them now that the two Blanton had taken care of were incapacitated. Then, he hit his emergency subspace transponder. Calling in help of a big kind.

"Cover fire!" Blanton ordered Gibson and Hailey who instantly opened up on the visible Colonials to their left and right.

Gibson fired at the two Colonials to his right immediately as they ducked into cover and fired at him. but he had the bigger gun and Major Blanton rushed forward, firing his own rifle at the two men as a third and a fourth rushed into view. But the Colonials didn't have a clue that the Intar rounds were nonlethal, and didn't dare poke their heads out.

At the order to fire Hailey stood up and aimed at the surprised Colonial who she'd come so close to coming face-to-face with just a moment ago. She fired three rounds into his chest as he raised his own carbine towards her and caused him to collapse as two more came into view and fired at her. The bullets snapped by her head as they slammed into the rock, sending chips out and puffs of water droplets to shoot away. But a burst of red Intar rounds from Lieutenant Newbold struck both of them as they fired and hit one in the shoulder and the other in the chest, causing his muscles to tense and the finger around the trigger pulled down, firing a full burst that sent one round right into Hailey's chest.

The low velocity round struck her full-on in her chest plate, throwing her petite frame back and sprawling onto the ground. The round didn't even come close to penetrating to her body, and she recovered quite quickly as Rosario rushed to the aid of the junior officer firing her rifle back towards where she could hear more Colonials moving towards them.

"First mission and you get shot Captain," Rosario taunted Hailey who regained her breath and aimed her rifle at the Colonials who were now visible and were trying to recover their down team mates.

"Lucky shot!"

"Move it people we have our opening," O'Neill snapped at them as he practically threw them forward and took their place and fired a few automatic bursts in the direction of the Colonials who were firing on them from the fog.

Brenda had been the first to run, partially for the reason that she had been ordered to do so, and partially out of the fact she was no soldier and this was soldier's work. Behind her the rest of SG-1 was peeling away from the fight in twos and threes. They were moving in a full-on sprint, eager to disappear into the fog and out of sight of their pursuers. But with the area not exactly being a safe are to walk, let alone run while under fire Brenda lost her footing fairly quickly.

As she jumped down a two foot drop she hit a slick bed of moss her feet went out from under her. She fell forward, and felt a sharp pain in her ankle but adrenaline drove her forward as she heard the pops of bullets around her. She could see two Colonial life signs moving quickly down the hill, almost in parallel with her, and caught sight of their silhouettes moving towards her through the fog. It was obvious they'd spotted her and were after her. And despite her vocal insistence that they needed to speak with them she had no intention of trying that out now.

So she ran, but realized something, she'd hyperextended her ankle or that's what she'd guess. Thankfully it wasn't bad, but it was the last thing she wanted right now. The terrain was starting to level out and become more exposed and that was really bad. This was especially true when she heard the snaps of passing bullets that hit the ground in front of her, strafing from left to right, kicking up water from puddles and pieces of rocks. This caused her to stop out of instinct, after all running towards where bullets hit is not natural. Turning she saw that the two Colonials behind her had closed the distance greatly, one was aiming his rifle at her, obviously the one who'd fired the burst in front of her. The other one almost made her panic, he was right behind her rifle in hand charging at her.

With this Colonial right behind her she remembered to try and pull out her pistol, but at the same time instinct told her to run. Her feet started backing away as she fumbled with her pistol in its holster but when she saw the guy's eyes behind his goggles she knew it was probably time to forget the gun and run. She turned as the Colonial closed and then felt an arm wrap around her waist and then around her right shoulder which shoved her down to the ground and into a puddle with a Colonial Commando on her back.

"Colonel!" she yelled into her radio as she struggled to grab for her pistol.

But against this opponent she was outmatched quite severely. Her right arm was wrenched back behind her back as the Colonial officer pressed his knee against her neck while another one was right on her left arm, effectively pinning her in place. The second Colonial rushed forward and she could see the flashlight in her face as she was looking over to the left and knew this was no time to negotiate.

"Don't move!" the second man said loudly.

Brenda didn't dare say anything, but she kept trying to fight, but it was absolutely useless. The rest of the SG Team was still not aware of the mess she'd gotten into. But she had gotten one cry for help out. Colonel O'Neill rushed to the aid of his civilian leader and saw the flashlight of the Colonials shining into her face with one trying to restrain her with a set of ziptie cuffs. He knew that she might be used as leverage to force them to surrender if they got her secured and aimed his rifle at the one aiming standing over her. He pulled the trigger and sent a burst of at least five rounds right into the upper body of his target who collapsed immediately in a convulsing wreck.

His commander was surprised at the fire, and brought his rifle around and aimed up towards O'Neill. Not a quarter of a second later a blue splash across his back hit him before O'Neill or this Colonial Commando could engage one another. He crumpled down and revealed Brenda Jackson holding her pistol, panting heavily at the feat she'd accomplished. O'Neill rushed down as she got up, a bit shaken, but no worse for wear.

"I'm okay," she responded before he could even ask, knowing what her counterpart was going to ask.

"I was gonna say good job but yeah glad you're alright," O'Neill responded with classic wittiness.

"You asshole," she sighed as he returned to the matter at hand.

"SG-1 fall back, we're pulling out."

"Roger that sir," Blanton called back out, and signaled for the rest of the team to make a break for it.

SG-1 peeled away, dropping several smoke canisters to cover their retreat as they took off and thankfully the Colonials refused to launch a pursuit as quickly as they'd retreated. The team was still a fair distance from the Stargate, but they had a clear road to it. And they took it and ran.

Immediately they noticed something, the Colonials had retreated.

EDFS _Challenger_, In Orbit Around P5X-359

The massive Battle Carrier had been waiting for the signal from Colonel O'Neill's SG-1 to come through. Brigadier Abraham Ellis had been waiting for it and so had his crew. He'd taken command of the _Challenger_ upon its commissioning, passing on command of the _Apollo_ to his XO, Major, now Lieutenant Colonel Marks. He'd then spent several years training up the first crewmen and women from across the English speaking world. With this new vessel he had seven hundred and fifty Americans serving right alongside Brits, Australians, New Zealanders, and Canadians on this powerhouse of a vessel.

"Sir, SG-1's emergency transponder has activated!" his XO called out.

"All ships to follow us into hyperspace," Ellis ordered, "Go to battle stations. Make it no drill Major."

"Yes sir."

The officer went over to the ship comms station and picked up the phone and held his finger over the general quarters button.

"This is not a drill, this is not a drill, general quarters, general quarters, all hands man your battle stations. Pilots man your planes, prepare for mass scramble."

The bonging noise of the battle stations alarm echoed across the ship as stations burst into action. The lights in bridge went red, signaling things were about to get hot.

Across the radio several of Ellis's bridge crew were sending out the orders to the rest of the _Challenger_'s escort group. Three Battlecruisers and six Destroyers were in an arrowhead formation around the Battle Carrier, their hyperdrives spooled up and had their coordinates plugged in. More than three hundred fighters and gunships were loaded up and fueled for potential combat as they always were in the Earth battle groups that patrolled Earth's claimed territory. However these were alert fighters, this time each and every one of them was ready and waiting for things to go south.

The fleet jumped right as the ship reported ready for battle stations. They'd been on alert, with all crewmen and women up and ready, wearing their full-bodied, zero-atmosphere armored suits. The pilots were also ready and waiting in their ready rooms just off of the hangars with their F/A-302B Banshees in the launch bays below the main hangars. The pilots in the first wave of Banshees were strapped into their birds, and the engines of the fighters were warmed up and the weapons systems were activated.

_Challenger _was the second of the _Enterprise_ Class Battle Carriers, and inherited some design enhancements that _Enterprise_ hadn't been built with. The_ Challenger_ had side-facing launching bays large enough for three squadrons from each hangar nacelle to be launched at once. It was a shameless rip-off from the experience of seeing how quickly the Colonials' Battlestars could scramble large numbers of fighters. For rapid recovery Earth's premiere warships a very complex tractor beam system had been installed in their hangars that could literally bring in a hundred and sixty Banshees and their thirty-two Mohican gunships, and sixteen Ghost recon ships.

Every one of them was prepped and ready along with her vast weapons systems. Some of the upgrades Earth warships had received included two new types of point defense and anti-fighter/anti-missile weapons. The first and more numerically prolific was a CIWS thirty millimeter rotary cannon. Over twenty had been installed aboard the new Battle Carriers alongside eighteen SpaceRAM missile launchers. It was an upgrade of a naval weapon, the RIM-116 Rolling Airframe Missile, used for space operations and was meant to fill in the gap for anti-fighter missiles that was such a crucial element of Earth's terrestrial navies. In tests both weapons systems had proved effective, allowing the rail gun batteries to be focused on long range fire while the RAM missiles covered the medium range and the CIWS covered short range. It was a powerful weapons platform, and it wasn't alone and the Colonials would figure this out shortly.

The fleet of eight Earth ships emerged from hyperspace quickly with the image of a classic planet's image to the left of them. Instantly Banshees began to scramble from the hangars of the Battlecruisers. Ellis had already given the command for his wings to launch upon their arrival and soon the squadron formations were in line in front of the warships. With his forces effectively on auto-pilot he decided to call in to Colonel O'Neill, and check his status.

"Major," he said, calling out to his lead comms officer, "Get us into contact with SG-1."

"Yes sir," the man responded and began to call into SG-1's signal.

He had his bridge set up quite simply, in fact this too was a shameless rip-off of a primary source. There were two places down below a walkway in the middle of the bridge where on one side he had his communications, primary and secondary sensors operations and on the other he had weapons. His helmsman was situated right in front of the window in a seat with his controls being basically the same as any other ship.

"Lieutenant, where's the Colonial fleet?"

"Other side of the planet sir, stationary orbit over SG-1's transponders. I read…one Battlestar, one heavy cruiser, two light cruisers, eleven destroyers, three replenishment ships, and two civilian ships in formation with a lot of fighters flying around on CAP. There's also an assault ship descending into the atmosphere."

"SG-1 reported that there were several Gou'ald vessels that had arrived in orbit. Any sign of them?"

"There's a lot of wreckage sir, I'm reading two crippled Alkesh hulls in orbit and a third intact one on the ground."

"Very well, do they have any idea we're here?" Ellis asked.

"Negative sir," the man responded, "They're still recovering their formation from around the Gou'ald ships with some Raptors heading back to their own positions away from the main formation. Must be working on salvage operations."

"Their sensors can't see us…" Ellis mumbled under his breath, "Do we have contact with SG-1?"

"Yes sir," his comms officer responded.

"Patch it through to me," Ellis commanded, somewhat relieved that they were responding immediately, "Colonel O'Neill, do you copy?"

"What took you so long General Ellis? Kinda odd having to call you that," the response came from the planet-side team.

"Had to finish my coffee," Ellis chuckled, glad to hear the humor in his voice so couldn't have been too bad, "What's your status Colonel?"

"We've broken contact and are en route back to the gate. But the Colonials are right behind us. We could use a hand if you've got a minute."

"We'll see if we can get the Colonial forces to back off for you Colonel," Ellis said.

"That would be nice."

"Helm, all ahead full, bring us around the planet. Let's make ourselves known."

The massive engine banks of the _Challenger_ drove the ship forward, with the escorting battlecruisers and destroyers right alongside her. The Banshees flew alongside them in their four-ship formations, with the Mohicans loaded down heavily with missiles, rockets, and rail guns mounted under their wings. It was a massive force of firepower that the Colonials had no idea was there.

"They see us sir," his sensor station called out, "Colonial traffic just picked up. They're going to battle stations. Looks like one of their Raptors got a look at us when they came around the planet."

Ellis nodded, "Bring us to a stop once we're in visual contact. Patch us into their frequencies and keep track of their orders."

After a few more seconds the Earth formation was able to see a larger force of Colonial ships in front of it. The group was charging towards them, their vast Viper formations moving in line with their Battlestar leading the way forward with the destroyers in close and the cruisers out on the flanks. They'd come about and were aiming right at them, and were still coming on.

"Hail the Battlestar," Ellis ordered.

"Yes sir…you're on."

"Attention Colonial warships. This is Brigadier General Abraham Ellis, commander of the Earth Defense Force Ship _Challenger_. Be advised you are engaging Earth military personnel on the planet. Please order your forces to stand down immediately."

There was a hesitation on the Colonials' part as the message was received. Ellis watched the mass of stationary warships carefully as they came to a stop, facing off with his own battle group.

"This is Rear Admiral Helena Cain, commander of the Pegasus Battlestar Group. Our forces are engaging pirates and terrorists that raided Colonial civilian vessels and took our people hostage. We will not stand down," came the terse reply.

"You were engaging pirates. But they're gone, the threat is eliminated. We know because we had a team observing your operations on the planet. They are not hostiles, I will ask again that your ground troops disengage and allow our people to pull out and leave the planet."

"General, I find it odd that your people just so happen to be here when our ships are raided. I also find it odd that your ships are so close and so knowledgeable about this situation. Forgive me if I seem forward, but considering the facts of the situation I don't think you or your people are entirely innocent here."

Ellis had to hesitate before speaking to that accusation. This was a bad situation and anyone could have come to that conclusion with the facts available.

"Then you'd be wrong. Admiral those ships, and those pirates have no connection whatsoever to Earth. Our team on the ground was there a day ago on a routine scientific reconnaissance mission. This battle group is assigned to patrolling this area and to deal with threats to other worlds and Earth's own interests."

"And what would be your interests?"

"The protection of our team. I highly recommend you back off, my ships have every ability to accomplish that directly if need be," Ellis growled, growing impatient with these accusations and then he saw some notecards next to the helmsman's station used for writing down anything in a hurry.

That's when he got an idea.

"Is that a threat general. We don't respond well to threats, as the wreckage behind us will show."

"We know. Like I said, piracy is something we both hate passionately. But I must warn you against forcing our hand," Ellis said calmly, writing down something on the note and then gave it to his beaming station officer and held his mike with his hand, "Send this to the Battlestar's bridge."

"Yes sir," the man said with a grin when he read what was on it.

"This is the last time I'll ask Admiral."

"Note is away sir," the enlisted man at the controls said calmly and proudly as he sent away the note to arrive on the Battlestar's CIC.

The impact it had was immediately evident.

"Well played General. Well played," Cain responded, her tone not at all fearful, but more surprised and actually impressed.

"Like I said, we just came to do the same thing you're doing: Protect our people. The wreckage and spoils are yours. I won't dispute that," Ellis replied, knowing he had the high ground.

"We appreciate that actually," the Colonial officer growled indignantly, not very happy with the high and mighty tone that had been taken with them now that they'd backed down and conceded the day.

"Sir, Colonial ground forces are being ordered to disengage," the sensor station called out.

"Excellent," Ellis chuckled, looking out at the ships of the Colonial fleet which were still facing his own.

The battlestar was in the middle, facing off with its smaller Earth counter-part. If it weren't for the beam weapons and shields Ellis wasn't so sure his ship could handle a slugging match with such a monster. He was however glad for one thing that was not a weapon and yet was the most powerful tool today. His note was the key difference in him having to engage these people and them backing down. Thankfully for all parties however the Colonials had flinched. There would be no war today.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking what did you tell them on that note?" one of his officers asked.

Ellis just smiled and looked at the man.

"I wrote; 'This could be a nuke'."

Terra Nova, Terra Nova University

It was well past sunset at the large university campus when an unarmed Wolverine L-ATV parked out in front of one of the dorm's parking lots. The campus was loud, parties were being had all along the beach as music thundered out loud enough to be heard across the strait at the larger military-owned island it had just come from.

Commanding this vehicle was Staff Sergeant Jason Hanson, now in fresh fatigues with only a pistol and a privately owned switch blade as his weapons. It was very different from the armor and full combat loadout he'd on a few hours ago in the deep caves of Terra Nova, where he and his young female passenger had just arrived from. Alongside him was a member of his squad, Corporal Lily MacFierce. She was driving the vehicle in her usual place, which greatly weirded out her civilian passenger.

Jason and Hannah had been rushed out of the caves and the underground facility fully secured by military intelligence. From there they'd received proper medical treatment for a few scrapes and bruises and some mild dehydration. After a period of a few hours once blood work was completed both had been debriefed and hurriedly signed two non-disclosure agreements. Hannah hadn't expected to be treated this way, her own expectations had dictated that she be cooped up and interrogated thoroughly by men in black suits. But that's not at all what happened, as her experiences hadn't been deemed that great of a security risk and they had been in that facility for all of a few hours and hadn't seen much at all. So, after twelve hours of being gone from campus Hannah was back, escorted by Jason himself, who'd been assigned to do so as she was still his responsibility as her military escort.

"Here we are," he said calmly as they pulled up.

Many different students within sight of the vehicle slowed their pace or just openly stopped at the sight of a EDF Wolverine on campus. This hardly ever happened and it was worth observing.

"Th-thanks," she said calmly as she went to open the door and got out with her backpack in hand.

Her clothes were clean now after being covered in mud and sweat and some cave spider blood, but they were now clean, dry, and sanitary thanks to the EDF sanitizing sprays and radiation treatments they received shortly before being returned to her after her debriefing. As she got to the ground from the high vehicle she saw that Jason was right behind her in getting out of the vehicle.

"Hold on," he said with a grin, and pulled out his phone, "Never got your number."

"What?" she asked, and then remembered, "Oh yeah!"

"You did say you were free tomorrow," Jason chuckled, and held up a piece of paper, "And this three-day pass says I'm free for three days."

"I did, didn't I?" she said with a laugh, "here, I'll put it in."

Taking the phone she quickly typed in her number and then handed it back to him.

"Hope you like seafood Texas boy," she called out to him as she turned around and went back to her dorm and waved goodbye.

Jason couldn't help but beam in pride at getting a date with her with so many people watching and hopped in where a smile was plastered on the face of his driver.

"Well…" she cat-called smoothly, "Very nice…"

"I've got a sushi date and a three-day pass. This EDF thing is shaping up," he laughed once he buckled up and the vehicle started moving out.

"Sushi?" MacFierce laughed, "But you can't stand fish."

"I do tomorrow."

**Isn't that the truth guys? The things we do for girls. **

**Alright that's that. Sorry for the delay guys but school's back in session, and I've got a concerted effort being put into my original fic, Warriors of the Arctic. I'll be posting the story in a few hours on Fiction Press, this site's sister version for original stories. My pen name there is the same as it is here so it should be easy to find. **

**Back to this. As usual, hope you guys enjoyed, leave any thoughts, suggestions, or whatever in a review and I'll get back to you when I can to address anything you want addressed.**

**Next Chapter Preview: SG-1 meets Recon One. **


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Location: Leonis, Lion Fleet Shipyards Drydock # 13

Date: February 15, 2025

Time: 0930 Hours

Leonis was home to a new expanse of drydocks, orbital factories, and outfitting shipyards for the Colonial Fleet. In the past six years it had been built up enormously, holding the capacity to have a dozen Battlestars under construction at once. Alongside these capital scale yards were smaller construction yards with more than thirty slips available for construction or complete overhaul of existing hulls ranging from a heavy cruiser or Marinestar to several destroyers. It was also a source of great controversy, with the budgetary expenditures used on the construction and use of such monstrous facilities the backlash was severe. Several Quorum members protested vigorously at the massive budget glut these docks created, citing the fact that the Cylons were gone.

So if there was no more enemy out there why was the Colonial Fleet so intent on expanding its already massive forces? The answer was one that people were starting to guess at with some degree of unknowing accuracy. It was Earth. Everyone knew of the spat the thirteenth colony had with them by now. The whistle blower in the Quorum had made certain of that. Many people were concerned that the Fleet was preparing for a new war, a war with Earth and felt the need to beef up their arsenal by enormous proportions.

However, these political guessing games were not the reason for Admiral William Adama to be here now, in a Raptor bound for an old friend with a new body. It was the newly christened Battlestar _Galactica_. She was the first ship of a new class of medium-sized Battlestars meant to replace the aging _Columbia_'s. This class was named simply the _Galactica_ Class and to tell the truth Bill Adama was pretty damn proud. He'd known that there was going to be a new follow-on class to replace the _Columbia_ class, but he hadn't expected them to be commissioned so soon.

_Galactica_ was the first of a batch of five such Battlestars to come out of the slips over Leonis and Picon, with another thirty-eight right behind them in six month intervals between commissioning each batch of ships. The yard workers had been competing to launch their respective ships first, driving their schedules to come out ahead of schedule and below projected estimates, insuring some nice bonuses and more possible contracts with the Fleet. And this was despite the extensive redesign that had come about after the Pegasus had proved that her new upgrades were the new standard and the Galactica Class was ordered to have these built into the design, rather than included after the fact. _Galactica_'s own commissioning was just barely the first, her nearest sister, the _Athenia_, was actually set to go on trials right behind Galactica, which mad Adama very pleased. During his pilot days the pilots of the Battlestar _Athenia _were his personal rivals, always jockeying for position as the most prestigious squadrons of the fleet.

Yet here he was now, hovering past it in a Raptor piloted by a pair of his own pilots, soon to be assigned to _Galactica_.

"Doesn't look much like the old _Galactica_ does it sir?" the pilot asked as they maneuvered around it, taking in the full view of the shiny new vessel.

"Not much, but she's a fine ship," Bill responded as he examined the ship from the co-pilot's seat.

What he was seeing was a fine ship indeed. This new ship was effectively the same size as the original Galactica but perhaps a little taller. The outward differences were stark in comparison to the old model. The ribbing and armored plates were gone, replaced by the cleaner, more efficient solid composite armor of the newer ships. The two hangar pods no longer needed to retract when they needed to jump, and were stacked like the Mercury Class, allowing for more Vipers to land and launch from the ship. The layout of the engine pods was mostly the same, however, there were some pretty major differences here as well. In the original Galactica there were six, with two in the stern and four arranged on the four corners of the ship's stern. This one had an additional engine pod mounted right in the middle of the stern between the two top pods for added speed.

Her armaments were actually very near to what the original loadouts were for the Columbia Class. There were twenty-eight twin turrets for her main battery mounted with twelve on the ship's spine, under the nose, and on the hangar pods. The nose of the ship, shaped more like a Mercury's than a Columbia's, also housed three magnetic cannons of the same size as the other Battlestars in the fleet. And protecting the Galactica were more than seventy CIWS gun turrets mounted all along the hull.

To support this ship it only needed a crew of two thousand. Most of these were assigned to working on or pilots the five hundred Viper Mk. VIII's that were standing by to take off from a few airfields on Leonis. The rest of the crew was standing by in troop ships much like the one Adama had first arrived on Galactica with. But a skeleton crew of civilians and the senior NCO's and officers was standing by to receive them and get the ship rolling so it could undergo trials.

"She'll do," Bill nodded in appreciation, seeing the writing of the ship's famous name on her starboard pod, "Take us in."

"Aye sir," the pilot replied, coming around the pod, aiming right in as he called out, "Raptor One-Three-Zero on approach to starboard pod."

"Roger Raptor One-Three-Zero, hands-on approach to starboard hangar. Call the ball."

"Copy hands-on approach Galactica. I have the ball," the man said as he pushed the Raptor forward, gently flying into the spacious hangar with the Colonial crest right in the entrance and light pulsing along the runway, guiding them in. There was a civilian ferry docked within the hangar, and the pilot easily made his way past it.

The Raptor touched down gently and Adama patted the pilot on the shoulder. The elevator shook the Raptor as they went down into the main hangar deck and Adama stood near the door, exhibiting a young energy at reliving the first experience of seeing Galactica for the first time. After a few moments a green light went on next to the door and then the door opened with a hiss.

Greeting Adama was a very familiar face, Chief Tyrol. He was wearing his classic orange and yellow uniform at the foot of the Raptor's wing. The senior NCO snapped off a crisp salute to his commanding officer and had it returned as Adama stood on the wing of the Raptor.

"Let me be the first to welcome you aboard the Battlestar Galactica Admiral," Tyrol said with a grin.

"Thank you Chief, it's good to see you," Bill responded as he got down from the wing feeling his energy at an all-time high as he looked around, "This looks familiar."

Around him was a sight he had been expecting, but it was still a very impressive first sight. The hangar was massive, with Viper stacks arranged along the wall. They were oddly empty of the Vipers that were so important to Battlestars, and were crawling with civilian contractors, finishing and testing their work with some sparks flying at last minute work was completed. It was still strangely quiet and empty, but the two of them knew that would change quickly.

"Colonel Tigh is already aboard sir," Tigh told Adama as an aide followed the Admiral and the Senior Chief, "Getting the layout of the ship in his head."

"Saul?" Adama asked, "They brought him out of the reserves as well huh?"

"That's not precisely true sir. Colonel Tigh requested assignment aboard Galactica when he heard you were taking command. Said that you would better things to do than getting the crew in shape."

Adama smiled and shook his head, knowing that was probably exactly what his XO had said. But knew that he was more than likely bored with civilian life. To be fair, so was he, and now he had a Battlestar. Not just any Battlestar, it was his Battlestar. Nothing would take that away, and he intended on accomplishing his mission, a mission that could change everything.

"Chief," Adama ordered, "Let's get to work."

Location: Picon Fleet Headquarters

Things for the Colonial Fleet's high command were tense. Between the reports from the RSEC's recent missions and the return of the Battlestar Pegasus with news of a battle and a captured alien starship to show for it the Colonials were not short for meetings. But there was one thing that had the Fleet's commanders in a near state of fear. The report from the Pegasus was not believed at first glance, so Admiral Cain had been ordered to return to report on this personally.

She was now standing before the assembled Fleet High Command Staff. This assembly of brass was jumpy, and really hoped that Cain had lost it. But with the way she stood there, they knew that she probably wasn't.

"Rear Admiral Cain," Admiral Nagala began, "You may make your report on the incident."

"Thank you sir," Cain began and nodded to a Lieutenant in the back at the controls of a computer and started her report with the added aid of pictures taken of the scenes. The first picture was of the two civilian ships that had started this whole incident, "We began searching for two civilian vessels that had failed to rendezvous with my battle group and found them at a nearby planet."

The next picture was brought up with another nod. This one was of the bloodied bridge of the Lucas Wanderer.

"We found this on both vessels. The civilian crew and passengers were either dead or missing. We deemed that this was an act of piracy and began searching for those responsible. We found this on the planet below."

Now it was a thermal image of the heat signatures of many people with a shape that the brass knew well by now. Next was a picture of the ship itself, taken by the men on the ground after they'd secured it.

"The ship was not of Colonial design and nor were the weapons that the pirates used. The pirate crew were nearly wiped out, and only three were captured by the Commando team that was sent down to rescue our people. No casualties from the civilians were reported during the operation."

A trio of pictures of the pirates in question, quite bloodied, was now shown on the screen along with several pictures of bodies and weapons.

"I dispatched Marines to secure the area and clear out any other pirate presences on the planet. Before we concluded that however we were confronted by four vessels."

A picture of a large golden triangle appeared on the screen with several silver shapes, exactly the same as the one that Cain had just showed them.

"They attempted to hail us, spoke in a language none of my people were able to understand and then began advancing towards us. I then ordered a full volley of magnetic cannons into the pyramid ship. The volley cracked through energy shields and then shattered the ship. The smaller hostiles turned and fled, Viper pursued, destroying one and disabling the other two."

One of the admirals then interrupted her.

"Admiral, you said this vessel had shields? Were they at all similar to the one we encountered before the Second Cylon War?"

"Yes sir I believe so. However, I do not believe that these people were Cylons or Cylon affiliated. No Centurions were in the wreckage, and there was not a scrap of Cylon technology to be found amongst the debris or the ship we captured intact."

"It is possible the Cylons captured the vessel we encountered before the war," Nagala responded, speaking more to the assembled brass than to Cain.

"It was then our recon Raptors on the planet encountered what we believed to be more pirates sir," Cain continued, "Our thermal scans revealed an anomaly, and the commander on the ground dispatched our commando team to investigate and neutralize any potentials threats. What they encountered we now believe to have been an Earth scientific reconnaissance team."

The assembled Admirals shifted uncomfortably in their seats. It was this information that had them worried. A picture taken from the helmet camera of one of the commandoes showed a fully armored soldier with an unmistakable circular patch on his shoulder. The Earth soldier held a SAW, and was looking right at the Colonial who was aiming his suppressed carbine at the Earther.

"Play the footage please," Cain ordered the Lieutenant.

The footage played, and they were able to hear the Colonial speak.

"Hands where I can see them!" the man ordered him.

But the camera turned and another Earther was standing, weapon aimed at the commando.

"How's it goin'?" the Earther asked with no small amount of confidence before firing with a red flash. The commando groaned as he collapsed and the image became that of the ground with several foggy images of movement in the background.

"As my report states none of our troops were killed. And aside from a broken nose there were no injuries sustained by our ground-side teams. It appears the rounds that were used against our team were of a very effective nonlethal variety that we have yet to understand."

"So the Earth unit had the ability to neutralize our operators without causing serious bodily injury?" one of the men grumbled, "And they used them despite being fired on by lethal rounds?"

"I guess we can count ourselves lucky sir," Cain responded after another helmet camera came up, showing one of the commandoes pursuing an individual Earther wearing the same armor, but didn't hold a rifle of any kind. The figure was also smaller than the two men who were clearly soldiers.

The commando pursued this female Earther, who was clearly operating in a near panicked state. She tried fumbling around with her pistol, but couldn't get it, and chose to run away instead of fight. But the Colonial was right on top of her and tackled her to the ground. She let out a scream, and the commando began trying to restrain her, fumbling with the plastic cuffs on his pack, out of frame. Another commando ran up next to them and pointed his carbine down at her head, but she continued to desperately resist. Then a red flash to his left alerted the Colonial to the fact that his partner was collapsing and then he turned and saw a standing figure of an Earther with a rifle in hand ready to fire at him. Then the screen lurched into the air, and a strange noise overpowered everything and the image went to static.

"Major Damecles was found unconscious and the team's XO broke off pursuit to guard their casualties. We never saw the Earth unit evac off of the planet, but considering their history we believe they had a cloaked vessel like the one _Galactica _first encountered six years ago."

"I'd say we were very lucky."

"Because from what happened next, I'd assume Earth does not want to kill anyone," Cain said calmly, although her tone was sour, "At the same this occurred, or shortly afterwards. An Earth battle group arrived in orbit in the shadow of our DRADIS systems. We didn't see them until they came around with fighters deployed and their ships in formation."

The screen changed to what appeared to be quite a few warships in formation, the space in between them glistening with fighters and gunships. One was a lot larger than the rest of its escorts, measuring in at the capital scale.

"A frakking Earth Battlestar," Nagala grumbled.

"Escorted by quite a few ships we've never seen before. It's the largest gathering of Earth forces we've seen so far."

"Yes sir, but…it's what they did that forced me to call off all operations against this groundside team and back down. You all have the transcript of the conversation that occurred shortly after. But it's what they sent right in front of my frakking face that promised us that any potential hostilities with Earth would end before they began."

Cain held up a plastic bag with a note in it. A small piece of paper with thin gray lines on it and a symbol with the silhouette of what the Colonial recognized as an Earth Battle Carrier. But this one wasn't the one they'd encountered six years ago. That ship had been alone, and named Enterprise. This one's label had the name EDFS Challenger written on it instead. The note itself was a simple quite simply.

'This could be a nuke. Brigadier General Abraham Ellis, CO.'

The message was clear enough and the Colonials knew it.

"The question ladies and gentlemen is what to do about this? We already knew we were at a tactical disadvantage against Earth warships and strategically we are limited. With this capability Earth has the ability to potentially destroy entire battlegroups and there's not a frakking thing we can do about it," Nagala fumed.

"This also doesn't add in the fact Earth's lines of interplanetary communication are literally instantaneous. That fact alone is enough to put the Fleet a step behind."

"We have to avoid provoking Earth's forces until we can find some way to counteract their tech, this transportation device in particular," his R&amp;D chief grumbled, "We have nothing that even touches on this sort of capability, much less a counter measure against it. The best I have are our people on Choros. That facility, I'm afraid, is our most important strategic asset."

"There is some good news from there fortunately," Nagala grumbled, "Admiral Queen reported that Recon Team One has returned to base with a first-hand encounter with an advanced alien race that, according to this report, 'Has prior knowledge of the past of the Twelve Colonies and the Gods themselves. This species also possesses far superior technology to our own and seems willing to make contact with the Twelve Colonies on friendly terms.'"

"Needless to say sir we need to get on this alien's good side. We can ill-afford to make enemies out of our first alien species."

"My thoughts exactly. But these aliens, the Furlings, as they call themselves, seem to have given the RSEC the 'we'll call you' treatment. So we're just waiting for them to call us. Our first priority is to gather technology to protect ourselves from whatever else may be out there. Especially Earth and these pirates."

"Speaking of these pirates Admiral what are we planning on doing about them?"

"We're reinforcing our convoy escorts now and placing a rotating alert status amongst reserve units and Kobol's garrison is being brought to Condition Two. We'll protect our civilians and new and reclaimed colonies and then work out finding the bases these pirates are operating from and then neutralize them, permanently."

Location: Choros, Colonial Ring Security and Exploration Command

Recon One's week-long respite had come to an end. Despite an injury to one of their people that hadn't been as serious as originally believed the team was at full-strength once more. If there mission was anything more than what it was though, they would probably have lost the mission to one of the other Recon Teams.

Three days ago, as the team was resting and relaxing the team had gotten a new mission. Recon Team Three had met a human civilization with some amazing information. They'd invited the Colonials to a trade hub of a planet where they could meet all sorts of civilizations from across the galaxy. Of course the Colonials were very much looking to take them up on this offer, and Recon One, the most rested of the other teams, had gotten the job.

The team was standing in the embarkation room, with a relaxed unit of security personnel around them in their normal sentry positions. There was only a single drone present with them, a single wheeled model with a catapult launched UAV on top of it, should they need it. The inhabitants of a world called Arrera promised that they and all who visit this planet would be welcome so long as they come in peace had promised them. This wasn't to be taken at face value of course, and so they were complying with protocol. A smaller drone had been sent through earlier, revealing a pleasant surprise on the other side. This surprise was one that Dr. Beverly had been itching to see for himself as the team's cultural expert and linguist. And as the seventh chevron on the ring locked into place he and the entire team were itching to get going.

"Receiving telemetry," the speakers called out to the Colonial team of twenty-seven.

The team huddled around in groups, looking at the feeds of their officer's tablets, which were patched in as well. What they saw was truly breath taking. On this planet it was night-time, but they could still see what it was they would be walking into. A series of buildings was arranged around the ring. These buildings were well-lit by a series of hanging yellow bowl-like lanterns with a candle within, casting a clean light around the buildings. The roofs of these buildings were curled up at the corners with greenish-blue shingles to ward off the rain. Red painted wooden columns held up these roofs where a multitude of people were moving around, some looking at the ring in expectation, others continuing their own business. Many were around market stands, some in groups, and others still dragging carts with thatched roofs over them. It was a busy market-place of great wealth from what the Colonials could see.

"There's the tablet," Agent Fraser pointed out, looking at a gazebo-like structure in front of the ring.

"I see they know that it's important," Colonel Black grumbled, seeing that it wasn't just sitting there.

Two guards were there in darkly-colored metal armor with a helmet on their heads with a red feather on the top of them. The robes beneath their armor were red and baggy, and across their chests were lines of thin white bags. They each had a straight sword in a scabbard on their hips with a flintlock musket held on the ground with their right hand on the swords' hilts and their left around the barrel of their firearms. Between them was an older man in an exquisitely decorated red, green, and gold robes with his hands together and a black hat with a flowing headdress of feathers. It seemed as if he was waiting on them.

"Truly amazing, nothing in the Colonies comes to close to this style of architecture or dress," Dr. Beverly said excitedly over their shoulders as he looked at the image himself, "Agent Fraser I must get a closer look."

"I know, I want to get over there as much as you do."

"Perimeter looks clear, Colonel Black, your team is a go for this mission," Admiral Queen called out to his team on the floor below, "Gods be with you."

"Thank you sir," Colonel Black responded, snapping off a salute, "Recon One, follow me."

Grasping his carbine he checked to be sure it was ready for use along with his twenty-five millimeter underslung rocket launcher. Both weapons were locked and loaded and he stepped to the front of his team's column and buckled his helmet shortly before stepping through. In that same familiar feeling he was on the other side, and walked forward to the sounds of a commotion not unlike any other city or town market center.

There was talking, yelling by merchants, and the other miscellaneous sounds that he couldn't recognize but knew that this was where they belonged. The smell was one of many different cooking stands and grills. The air was thick with spices, perfumes, and all manner of sweet, spicy, and sour. It was rather warm, and very humid. However despite this it was remarkably comfortable, almost relaxing in a way that Colonel Black, as logical a man as there was, couldn't quite explain.

"How's this for a new world?" Fraser asked, walking up next to Colonel Black and towards the extravagantly dressed man who began walking towards them, "And welcoming party, nice change of pace."

"Compared to a desert hell yeah it is," Dr. Cruz, their tech expert, grumbled under his breath, "There might even be something for me to do aside from twiddling my thumbs."

"See those guns?" Captain Stinson chuckled, "Those are flintlocks, don't get too excited."

The group of Colonials spread out from the ring so they didn't get all clustered and prevent someone from coming through behind them and walked down the stone steps on a paved brick road. However before they could go about observing their new scenery the man in front of them came forward with two guards flanking him and a red clothed man behind him with a large book and a second equally dressed man with a quill and ink. Colonel Black, Agent Fraser, and Dr. Beverly stepped towards him after waving the military portion of the team to hold their position.

"Welcome honored guests," the man said with a large smile in highly accented standard, shocking the Colonials, "I am Min Sun."

He was quite friendly, and not at all intimidated by the heavily armed Colonial team dressed in all-black uniforms and with their helmets on in most of the cases.

"How did you…" Fraser started to ask but the man cut him off.

"Your tongue? Oh it is quite common among travelers," the man chuckled nonchalantly, as if he'd answered the question multiple times.

"And your language? Or tongue as it may be," Dr. Beverly asked politely.

"Ah explorers," the man asked, "Wonderful."

"How did you know that?" Colonel Black asked.

"Well you are certainly not traders," the man said, rubbing his thin mustache, "You are too heavily armed to be merchants, and you are curious. I've had a long time to learn of who comes and goes through the chap'ai in my duties as Receiver."

"Wait," Dr. Beverly snapped, "That word. I've heard it before. It means…Stargate."

"You have?" Colonel Black asked.

"I have, it's an ancient language, only found in one place on Gemenon, at the Artemis Delta, near the capital," Beverly said, "Intriguing. Might I ask where you heard that word?"

"During our time under the oppression of the Gou'ald that was what it was called," Min replied, "Of course we no longer live under their oppression, as you can see. We have lived for more than a decade now in complete freedom. Thanks in large measure to the Taur'i."

"The Taur'i?" Beverly asked again, "My, my, my, it, it means 'first ones'."

"What does that mean doc?" Fraser asked as Beverly started getting more and more excited.

"I shall explain later my boy, umm…Min. We're explorers from a group of people called the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. Does that name sound…familiar to you at all?"

"I'm sorry, this is the first time I have heard of, or met your people."

"Ah…quite alright then," Beverly responded, quite surprised but kept his composure calm and reserved, "The Taur'i, do you know how to contact them? We would…like to meet them."

"Of course," Min said, "They come by every so often to meet new travelers and merchants. They gave us something with which to contact them if we ever need to speak or are in dire need. I shall ask for the Taur'i to be summoned."

"Ah, wonderful," Beverly smiled brightly, "Perhaps you can help us further then?"

"I see that you have many questions my friends, I am afraid that I am not the proper authority on such matters. Perhaps you should go to the palace, I'm sure you can find the answers that you seek in our archives. Explorers are always welcome," Min said, stepping aside and pointing behind him at a tall hall with the clear signs of a large building on top of it with a large city arrayed around it, "And as explorers we would like it if you would leave your mark and how many were in your party. So that we have a record of your visit and a way to reach out to you should we see fit to speak again once you have gone."

Min waved to the two young attendants behind him and they came forward now. One opened up the book and showed them a page that was half-filled with markings and writings of many different types. There were also symbols and items next to some of them, signifying a people or individual had arrived. Next to each were a number of tick marks, showing the number of people that had arrived. Dr. Beverly took the opportunity to take the quill from the second attendant and signed his name and marked twenty-seven ticks and then pain-stakingly sketched the Colonial crest.

"Thank you. Now, might I know your names?"

"I am Doctor Victor Beverly, our translator and cultural expert. This is Agent Brian Fraser, our civilian team leader, and Colonel Henry Black our military commander."

"A pleasure sir," Fraser said, offering his hand, but Min bowed in respect before he could shake it.

"I sincerely hope you will enjoy your stay. There are many rooms where you may stay in the city's visitor quarter just this way. Each one will have a ring, like the chapa'ai, in their entryway. It is quite cheap to do so, and I recommend it. The archives are not open until morning."

With that the man stepped to the side and motioned for the team to continue on and journey into the city. Colonel Black knew they would be best to go and signaled for the team to follow him with Fraser alongside.

"Let's take a look around," Colonel Black suggested, "Split into teams and meet here in a few hours."

The Colonials moved along in a column, their heads on swivels as they took in the amazing city around them and then they noticed something. Ahead of them and even behind where the ring was situated was nothing but water and ships' lanterns out on the water or at dock. The candles and lanterns of the city ended at a piece of black where they reflected in shimmers that could only have come from water. They were on a massive stone pier jutting out more nearly a kilometer into a large harbor with a massive city arrayed around them.

"Doc, you were saying you would explain something to us about what that guy just said?" Fraser asked as he was walking alongside the man in question.

"Oh yes I was," Dr. Beverly replied, "That word, 'taur'i' it's an old and very rare language only found on Gemenon. The only times it has been used in writings have been when an age-old prophecy of some sort was being told of Kobol or Earth. Sometimes it spoke of both worlds. It's been a while since I've read it but it translates as first ones."

"We know that," Colonel Black responded.

"But it is what these first ones are said to be. Many of my colleagues believe these Taur'i to be the Lords of Kobol themselves."

"You're saying that the Lords of Kobol might still be out there?"

"It is possible. I think it all rests on if we can find out more about the Taur'i, if they do in fact exist we can perhaps prove what happened on Kobol those many centuries ago and even more importantly, find Earth itself."

"Seems like something the Lords of Kobol might happen to have written down," Colonel Black grumbled as they reached a market square in the middle of the man-made dock and caught sight of a familiar shape, "There, we might be able to bed down there for the night."

"Sounds good, we brought along some cubits, hopefully they like gold enough for us to stay until morning," Fraser agreed.

"Very well, get in there and see what you can do for us," Black ordered, "You two go with him."

Black snapped his fingers at two of his troops who nodded and followed Fraser inside and then waved Dr. Beverly over to him.

"Doc that guy said a name I recognized. He said Gou'ald. That's what that…Furling said wasn't it?"

"Yes I recognized it too Colonel. I believe that there is more that we must find out if we are to truly understand these peoples we're coming across."

"And we have to wait until morning," the Colonel growled with discontent.

"I'm afraid so."

Kobol, Tomb of Athena

The Arrow of Apollo had arrived within a few days of its recovery from its rescuers in the local law enforcement and now it was ready to be put to the test. The Battlestar Galactica, the vessel chosen to take the journey to Earth, was ready. Admiral Adama was preparing the vessel's crew and pilots in their new ship on the way to Kobol. Once they arrived the plan was for the RSEC to have a map to Earth plotted out for them to follow.

That is where the Arrow came in. The Sacred Scrolls had stated that the Arrow was the key to finding the path to Earth itself. With all that the Scrolls had stated coming true in some form or another the Colonials were not at all skeptical their prized golden trinket would somehow do the same for them in this new quest. Here were several important people, Dr. Gaius Baltar, Admiral Queen, freshly arrived from Choros, and a few other expert navigators who would be responsible for mapping the ship's course from Kobol to Earth.

"Doctor, hope you're ready," Admiral Queen said with a chuckle at seeing how uncomfortable Dr. Baltar was in the intensely cold rain of the normal Kobol weather.

They were all standing outside of the Tomb of Athena, fortified and camouflaged from outside interference by a full platoon of RSEC troops with a few portable metal buildings setup for a team of archaeologists to work in shelter and comfort and for the garrison to stay dry whenever they weren't on watch.

"For a new discovery of course. Our linguists are going over the data we recovered from Olympus but we have yet to definitively make out anything. They're saying that the language they're seeing is unlike anything found on the Colonies. I don't expect much for some time," Baltar said bitterly, huddling closely as the rain continued to come down on top of them.

"That's not what I like to hear doc," Queen chuckled wryly, knowing what pushed Baltar's buttons by now.

"Admiral I am telling you just how it is. We have no reference point with the language this data is written in. It is difficult enough to do so with normal data. At least we can start there, but just figuring out the language the machines run on is a massive obstacle."

"Just get the job done Dr. Baltar, we need whatever data that city has to offer if we're to have any chance against whoever or whatever might be out there."

"Admiral Queen," the lead archaeologist on site said brightly, "You're all set sir. We've examined the arrow one last time and have concluded how we may use it. All we need to do is…"

As the man spoke a thunderous boom roared out in the distance. It was like thunder, but way off in the distance. The civilians paid it no mind, but the soldiers around them all of a sudden went into a high state of alert. That was not no thunderclap.

"Admiral! The expedition landing site is under attack!" the platoon leader at the site yelled out.

"What?!" Queen snapped, running over to the small site headquarters, where the only radio capable of reaching the main operating base miles away was located, "Get me the base commander."

He rushed into the building, slamming the door open, paying no mind to the water he tracked into the building and ran over to where a man was leaning over the radio speaking rapidly into it. They could hear more thuds as golden lights occasionally fell from the sky way off in the distance. Firebase Royal, the RSEC's headquarters on the planet, came alive with air raid sirens wailing as the news of the attack came through to them as well.

"Sir, we've lost contact," the radioman said before Queen could order him to contact the base, "They were trying to evacuate the base when I lost them. I can't tell but they were saying they were getting hit by orbital strikes."

"Get the commander in orbit on wireless now!"

"Aye sir," the corporal replied, "_Gorgon_, _Gorgon_, this is Royal Three-One, come in over," there was a hesitation as the man waited for a reply but got none, "_Gorgon_, this Royal Three-One how copy…Sir I can't raise Battlestar _Gorgon_."

"Any Colonial ships in orbit, this Royal-Six, does anyone read me?" Queen snapped, taking a spare headset and felt his gut start turning over, but despite the broad call for someone to answer no one did, "Frak!"

"We had more than twenty ships in orbit, they can't all be destroyed," the lieutenant said quietly.

Admiral Queen looked over at the young officer angrily, and saw that he'd gone pale and his eyes were as big as saucers. The other three men in this building were in equal states, operating on instinct by now and he knew that he'd have to take command here. These troops were inexperienced and not prepared for an orbital attack, especially one that could defeat twenty Colonial warships.

"Their primary mission is to protect our civilian ships in orbit," Queen responded, trying to make sense of this without coming to the conclusion that every Colonial warship was destroyed, "They've probably decided to fall back and protect the civilians."

"They can't leave us sir! This is Kobol for frak's sake."

"I know that Lieutenant! But that doesn't matter now, what matters is that they're right here right now! Detach a squad to escort all civilians back to the Firebase Royal and get them through the ring. I'm heading back and taking command of all Colonial forces on the planet. We've got to alert Choros and get the Fleet here now. Do you have MANPAD's?"

"No sir, we've only got our small arms," the man replied, "And they won't do us any good!"

Queen grabbed the man by his Kevlar raincoat and shook him violently, not about to let panic set in.

"Get a hold of yourself Lieutenant! You will defend this position!" he roared in his face, snapping him out of it.

"Aye-aye sir," the lieutenant said with his voice shaking slightly.

"Alright, that squad escorting the civilians is to also draw MANPAD's when they arrive at Firebase Royal. Good luck Lieutenant."

With his orders given, Queen pushed open the door in time to see the civilians rushing into the Tomb of Athena. The platoon of Marines was rushing to battle positions, hefting their unguided anti-tank/anti-material rocket launchers if they had one and others started digging foxholes at the cliff's edge where they could take cover and defend the area.

Then, a loud metallic noise reached their ears. Out in the distance a group of six crescent shaped craft came banking around them, flying towards the Tomb itself. Admiral Queen about panicked at first, thinking that these craft were Earth fighters, recognizing the basic flying wing shape. But something was not quite right. Earth fighters had a more straight edged linear shape, not a smooth arching crescent and they didn't have two long protrusions coming out of the wings aiming forward. He figured out these two things were weapons when they fired at them.

"Cover!" an NCO yelled as two golden lights flew right towards them, impacting the entire area.

Explosions from plasma bolts tore into the ground, the cliff and one of the civilian buildings. The building and the ground was torn apart and shrapnel of molten glass and metal from the plasma impacts cut into several Colonial troops. The civilians ducked down immediately as the fighters passed overhead right as a missile struck one right on the wing and blew it off. With a high pitched screech the fighter tumbled over their heads and when the ground-trembling explosion reached their ears they knew that they had a chance of defending themselves at least.

The three Colonial wounded were quickly scooped up as the lone medic in the outpost had them rushed into the safety of the Tomb of Athena while more of these fighters zoomed overhead. Around them large diamond shaped craft he recognized as the ship Pegasus had captured a week ago began flying down along with smaller and much larger triangular shaped ships and descended into the valley flying overhead towards the expedition landing site and towards a much more crucial location, Olympus.

This was no raid, it was an invasion. The pirates had struck the Colonials in their most crucial and vulnerable point, Kobol.

**You didn't think I'd let the Colonials have it all their own way did you? The action has only just begun and this is set to be one hell of a piece of combat for the Twelve Colonies. Man I am excited guys, and I hope you are too because I really, REALLY enjoyed writing this one. So as usual, leave me with any thoughts, suggestions, problems, etc. in a review so I may improve or address your concerns.**

**Next chapter Preview: The Colonials on Kobol try to rally in defense of their ancient homeworld.**

Now, this is something that those of you who follow the Youtube situation know what I'm about to address and it may or may not make you unhappy with me. But I feel like I've gotta say something. An individual who goes by the name of Grade A Under A has been attacking another Youtuber, Tyrone Magnus on the allegations of copyright infringement and stealing from him and others. Tyrone responded with saying reaction videos are well within fair use policies set forth by Youtube. Personally I am on Tyrone's side. So here is a point-for-point rebuttal of Grade A's video attacking Tyrone.

Grade A claims that reactors are untalented thieves who steal videos made by others and use them in their entirety and are thus in violation of Youtube policies. This is incorrect in its entirety. Fair Use policy does not prohibit this as long as the videos are transformative, are for critique, or for review. Thus, reactors don't NEED permission, and have the right to use these videos. They don't have the RIGHT to make money, that's what a 3rd Party Claim is for.

This take me to my second point. Grade A says that Youtube's copyright system is broken and that it favors certain individual channels over others. While there is a problem with it, Youtube's not a law enforcement agency folks. It can't decide on copyright matters if it is disputed. It says so in its terms of service, it cannot take sides, and that conflicting parties will have to take it to court. Youtube's hands are tied, and that's that.

Grade A then went on to claim that reactors do nothing for the Youtube Community. I beg to differ. Most of the subscriptions I have I found because someone reacted to their stuff and brought it to my attention. He also claims that people watch the videos there first. There's not a lot to prove that one way or another aside from asking these people to show their traffic analytics I can tell you with certainty that many people I've seen get their stuff reacted to, appreciated it as, in my case and I know I'm not alone, I watch their stuff before I watch the reaction. I hit pause on Tyrone's video, click the link to the original video, watch it, and sometimes I subscribe if I liked it. THEN I watch the reaction. You see Grade A, your claim is false, quite badly false.

He also called Tyrone a liar for posting a video reacting to his allegations early on in this drama, saying he was done with it, and then posting two more. When people keep attacking you, you gotta defend yourself. Especially if you're a guy like Tyrone with a professional reputation potentially on the line. He looked at the situation Grade A was creating, and then decided he had to address that. He had to change his mind to adapt to the circumstances, simple as that.

This is a minor point, but a point I'd like to make nonetheless. Grade A claims that his viewers are older and more mature. He shows a screenshot of his age range of viewers. But I'm going blow this up for you. His graph showed hardly any younger fans, but a mysterious concentration of 18 to 25 year olds. So is it coincidence that he's got a bunch of fans of an age range that is coincidentally the age range require to view restricted content? Be honest, how many of you faked your age when you first got a Youtube account? I'd bet that would be most of you if you were below eighteen. You don't believe everything you see on the internet and especially when it comes to people's identities and ages. Anyone who knows anything knows that. Nice try Grade A, your fanbase is every bit as immature as Tyrone's and everyone else's. You're nothing special.

Now this is where I'm going to make Grade A fans pissed and I don't care. Grade A claims that Tyrone reacted to one of his videos and made money off of it. The first part Grade A has no right to dispute by Youtube policy. A reaction video, whether or not it's a very active one, or a quiet one, doesn't matter at all. If you don't say a thing and you just listen that's technically a reaction. His lack of visible reaction gives a different message like Tyrone says, his body language spoke tons. While that's up for debate as it's very subjective, I believe he's right. The message I got from him was that he was contemplating it, he was listening, and he wasn't pleased and he wasn't entertained. That was the reaction he gave. Grade A was sure happy to show perhaps one of two videos on Tyrone's channel that showed hi subdued and quiet. He also showed one of Ryan Wright from the Reel Rejects not really into the video he was reacting to. So how about the times both individuals are reacting with enormously animated expressions and are talking and really into it? Nope, can't use that because that blows Grade's argument away that reactors don't do anything for the video. And Ryan actually made a point about his own video. He reacts primarily to movie trailers and he works with different studios to react to their stuff. The reason is simple, it gives the studios an idea of what the reception will be among their target audience. It has a legitimate business purpose. If he's really into a video, that tells the studio one thing, and if he's not into it and not impressed, that tells the studio another thing. Perhaps Grade A doesn't understand that? With his argument so far I'm thinking he can't comprehend it.

Grade A claims Tyrone made money off of his video. To be specific Grade A claims that Tyrone made three hundred dollars off of his work. There's a problem with this in a big way. Another reactor channel -,' It's Becky Boop ',- reviewed Grade A's claim that Tyrone's reaction video, at three hundred thousand views, made three hundred dollars. She blew this out of the water by showing that one of her videos, with a similar number, had only earned eighty-six cents. It is also Grade A's own fault he didn't file a 3rd Party Claim, as the video was up for quite a long time.

And here's the real reason Grade A has a problem with Tyrone. It took a month or two of Grade A bitching and moaning before he filed a 3rd Party Claim. After it happened Tyrone took down the video so Grade A wasn't making anything off of it. This, understandably didn't make him happy. However he decided, instead of contacting Tyrone, he would make a big deal out of what we now know to be a few cents. Tyrone however said his reasoning for taking down the video was because Akasan, another well-known reactor, told him Grade A didn't like the fact he even reacted to it in the first place. Grade A claims that he didn't tell Akasan anything. However, Grade A told someone else on Youtube and Akasan then heard it, and then told Tyrone. Knowing the Grade A fanbase Tyrone was also getting shit from them, and so, to eliminate the strife he took down the video. Grade A's claim is that Tyrone did it to spite him. I don't think this is true in the least. Tyrone had no beef with him, he had no motivation to do so. In fact it probably hurt his channel to take it down as it was fairly hot button issue that would have garnered more traffic and thus more revenue. Tyrone also says he gets 3rd Party Claims all the time and doesn't bother to open those emails anymore. I can relate to this as a writer for this site. I get a lot of emails from them and they come with specific headings and I only open new chapter updates, PM's, and review alerts. This can be assumed, with a degree of confidence, to be the case with Tyrone. And many say "Oh it's a hell of a coincidence isn't it?" Yes it is, but much, MUCH greater coincidences have happened in history. There is one tale of a pair of merchant raiders in WW1. The SMS _Cap Trafalgar_ was a merchant vessel outfitted with guns to raid British shipping, it was disguised, for obvious reasons as a British merchant ship, the HMS _Carmania _and wouldn't you know it? _Carmania_ was chosen as a raider, and coincidentally disguised as _Cap Trafalgar_. What a coincidence! Even more so, both ships ran into each other early in the war. Seriously? What are the odds of a German merchant ship would be disguised as a British merchant ship that had drawn the short straw itself to become a raider? Even more so that the British ship was disguised as a German ship that had gone through the same treatment? The point I'm making here is that Tyrone's taking down of the video is more than likely nothing more than coincidence after a long time taking heat over it and then hearing the original poster didn't like it.

Then there's the mud-slinging. I've debated and argued across Youtube and I've learned one thing. He who reaches for mud, has lost. Grade A started flinging mud immediately. That's how I knew he didn't have shit even before Tyrone, Becky Boop, and Akasan threw he and his argument out the window. Maybe it's a culture thing, maybe the Brits are more liable to go for cursing than we Americans are. Nothing against our cousins across the pond, I'm just saying it's maybe a cultural difference between us, like hot tea in Britain and iced tea in America. But I doubt that what he was doing was acceptable anywhere. And to be honest Tyrone might have grounds to sue him for slander, because as I've stated, and others have stated Grade A's got nothing but assumptions and twisted words.

In conclusion, I believe I've utterly destroyed Grade A's attempted crowning achievement. He went after the reactor community and here I am to tell you he failed. Everything I have written up here will tell you that. So to really drive it in go support these reactor channels, Tyrone Magnus, Becky Boop, Akasan, Reel Rejects, etc. Maybe even buy some of their merchandise and tell them BIG Z1776 sent you. And if you made it this far thanks for reading this, I got pretty long-winded at times, so you deserve a fucking medal.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Location: Terra Nova System, Asteroid Belt

Date: February 16, 2025

Time: 1200 Hours

Over a week had gone by and she hadn't faced him again. Going on two, sometimes three flights a day Ensign Patricia "Midas" Sinclair had racked up an undefeated record. Well, she was undefeated with the exception of her very first engagement with the General himself. None of her comrades could touch her in the air, not with a Banshee at her fingertips. The jet-black flying wing had become an extension of herself, making the agile strike fighter dance as if it were weightless. In many cases it was weightless.

They had so far moved from the basic combat maneuvers in atmosphere to forging a path forward into zero-gee combat for Earth's fighters. They had a huge list of maneuvers and tactics that ha to memorize and try. Sometimes these tactics were worthless, and tossed from the training regimen as new tactics were learned in their place. They'd mastered the art of flight mostly, but they still had a long way to go. They were all combat pilots, and they had to know how to fight in space where traditional logic did not necessarily apply. Some learned faster than others, and Ensign Sinclair was one of the gifted few who just got it.

"Nugget Flight, Control," came the call over the radio to the flight of four Banshees flying in a standard four-ship formation in the emptiness of the training space outside orbit of Terra Nova.

"Control, Nugget Lead, we copy," Sinclair called out in response. She'd quickly rose through the ranks, achieving the title of flight leader, having a group of four F/A-302B Banshees at her command during exercises larger than two aircraft.

"Standby for contact report…" the man said calmly, "Four bogeys bearing zero-three-four off your nose at Bravo zero-one-zero. Distance fifteen thousand miles and closing fast."

"Copy Control, four bogeys bearing zero-three-four, Bravo zero-one-zero," the young pilot replied, calling off the bearing, the vertical angle, Alpha meaning above them, and Bravo meaning below them. There were no altitudes in space, instead it was all angles instead of feet.

"Bogeys are marked on HUD," the control officer sitting back in comfort of a control room on Terra Nova reminded her as the red marks appeared on her helmet's HUD.

"Roger that Control, Nugget Flight vector to close and engage. Section One vector to zero-five-zero Bravo zero-two-five, section two vector to zero-one-zero Bravo zero."

"Copy Midas, Bullet breaking…now," her other section lead called out, banking his Banshee hard right with his wingman, Cajun, right next to him.

Both were able fliers, former USAF F-16 pilots who had earned themselves some interesting call-signs since joining the EDF. Ensign Don Thresher, callsign Bullet, had earned his callsign one night when he'd jumped into a taxi while drunk after their first liberty. The problem was a Lithuanian guy had jumped in as well, equally drunk. One thing led to another and his real callsign BULIT, stood for Beat Up Lithuanian In a Taxi. Ensign Mike Auburn, his wingman, was classified very quickly as an LSU fan when, during a room inspection, the Drill Instructor found a pair of LSU underwear in his drawer and the name stuck.

The four fighters split into two formations of two Banshees each. They had no real clue what sort of bogeys the instructors were looking to throw at them. Sometimes they were given Death Gliders, sometimes Ori fighters, sometimes Wraith Darts, and sometimes other Banshees, the most dangerous of the four designs. But these simulated bogeys were no Banshees.

Sinclair, with her wingman Jockey, pushed the throttle forward. Her fighter closed the distance, and she began to try for a missile lock with her Space Sparrows, hearing the beeps going off in her ears. She now saw the images appear within the red squares on her HUD. She saw these shapes were dark grey, and triple pointed.

"Heads up Nugget Flight! We've got new birds coming at us," she called out, trying to search through the many briefings and classes she'd had on the many fighter designs she and the rest of the pilots were expected to recognize in the event they encounter them.

"I can identify!" Jockey called out before the name came to her mind, "Make four Colonial Vipers. Potentially hostile."

"Copy that," Sinclair responded, easing her finger off of the trigger. Potentially hostile didn't mean kill on sight, their rules of engagement with potentially hostile contacts was more complex than that. But right as she said the growling of her Space Sparrow's target lock sang in her ears.

"We copy your last Jockey," Bullet replied, "Holding fire."

"Keep missile locks," Sinclair said, "They're potentially hostile. Control, Nugget Lead, we have visual ID on bogeys. Make four Colonial Vipers."

"Roger that Nugget Lead, attempting to contact bogeys and ascertain intentions."

"Boss these guys are always launched from a ship of some kind, where is it?" Jockey asked calmly, searching the local space and his scanner for evidence of the source for these Vipers.

Not programmed into the simulation that's where, Sinclair rolled her eyes at the obvious reason. They hadn't been trained in anti-ship tactics quite yet. That was the Mohican Gunship jockeys who got that training first. They'd had a few sorties alongside these bigger, meaner craft, escorting them on attack runs against both ground targets and simulated ships. But they'd never had the weapons needed to take on one of those ships, the Valkyrie Anti-Ship Missile. So she wasn't expecting a Colonial warship to show up. She had more pressing concerns.

"Nugget Lead, Control," the man called out after a moment, "Colonial Vipers have refused contact and are continuing on an intercept course."

The rest of the Banshee pilots tensed up, their fingers hovering over the triggers. They really wanted to splash these fighters, their classes had taught them that these particular fighters were equally as maneuverable as the average Banshee, and very much capable of bringing down their shields with a volley of their high caliber guns. Their instructors taught them that the best way to engage a Viper was from a distance, and to avoid tangling with them in a tight turning match. Needless to say the four Banshee pilots were itching for something to happen before the Vipers closed the gap and took the initiative by taking this encounter into a turning match.

Then their HUD lit up red around the edges, they were being lit up by the Colonials' targeting radar, or whatever their version was. This was a clear sign of aggression, and the rules engagement allowed for this, they were clear to engage.

"Nugget Lead is lit up!" she called out, "Engaging! Fox-Two, Fox-Two!"

She hit the trigger rapidly twice in a row, and off came two simulated missiles. Immediately the calls for Fox-Two fires from her flight went flying at the Vipers. She saw, in addition her two missiles, an additional four were flying at the hostile flight of four Vipers. Immediately upon their firing the Vipers loosed their own missiles. This triggered a now instinctive response amongst their own formation.

"Missiles in the air! Break, break, break!" Sinclair called out, jinking away from the incoming missile.

The buzzing and red glow in her HUD disappeared as the Vipers lost lock on her Banshee and she looked up to see that the missiles were streaking overhead as the Vipers, way off in the distance, were bouncing around like pinballs as their own missiles streaked towards their targets. The Vipers were very, very nimble, but their missiles were fact and locked on. It seemed almost too easy, even as the Vipers fired away long streams of gunfire to swat at the missiles they bored in, and struck each Viper right dead center.

There were four consecutive simulated fireballs and their HUD's flashed white as their missiles impacted and Sinclar smiled with smug pride at the ease of this victory. More and more victories seemed to be getting this easy. It was actually sort of a let-down to tell the truth, she'd been somewhat excited to engage one of the more formidable fighters the galaxy had to offer. But protocol was protocol, and their first choice of weapons was to engage with missiles and not risk themselves. They'd already intercepted three flights of Wraith Darts that flight, and they were somewhat tired. But that didn't mean they didn't want more.

"All Vipers destroyed, Nugget Flight is…" Sinclair called onto the radio, checking her HUD and saw her fellow Banshees were just fine, "Green. No casualties."

"Copy Nugget Lead, return to base."

"Dammit," she grumbled, "Roger, returning home."

The four birds turned for home, unaware that they were being watched by the commander of their own proud branch. General Mitchell had been watching the intercept mission with rapt attention, and to say he was not wowed by the rather bland performance was an understatement. He'd ordered the fighters to start practicing intercepts on Colonial Vipers and Raptors while the Mohicans and fleet were practicing attack runs against Colonial warships of every measured class.

Things were developing with those nutjobs, and his pilots needed to be prepared to face them if they were called upon early. And judging by recent sensor data was becoming quite likely. The Fleet was diving into its combat exercises, dueling ship-to-ship with simulated Banshees testing the point defense measures of their escorts and their Battle Carriers. Some were conducting short range patrols, learning their craft on the job. But their formal activation couldn't come soon enough. From the intelligence they had the Colonial Fleet was quite a bit larger than theirs, it had decades of experience in space, and had fought several large scale wars. Meanwhile Earth's fleet was a relative newcomer, only one of their Battle Carriers had ever fired a shot in anger, and the other ships had only been the minority of an allied fleet or operating by themselves. It was very rapidly becoming clear that Earth's fleet would need years to properly come to a high state of readiness, at least to their standards. And there were oh so few peoples whose standards were as high as Earth's.

Location: P6R-111

"Wow, never thought we'd make it here," O'Neill said calmly as he and the rest of SG-1 stepped through the gate into the thickly overcast afternoon.

"P6R is one of the few planets that's been able to prosper on this scale since the Gou'ald were destroyed, it's almost required for an SG Team to come check up on them and see if there's anyone worth meeting," Brenda said calmly as she adjusted her baseball cap on her head.

She walked down to meet with the welcoming party that was always here to greet new arrivals. Beside her was Dr. Walt right beside her with his favorite headwear, a fedora with a simple white ostrich feather, well discolored and worn from many years of use. The team was a bit more relaxed at the moment, they didn't have their helmets on, the planet was secure, their weapons were clipped to their vests and just vaguely kept in contact with their owners' fingers. They had their armor on of course, but compared to last time their camouflage was much different. This time around it was EDF Tropic, a mix of Multicam Tropic and Singapore's Woodland patterns. They all had either a ball cap, patrol cap, or boonie hats on their heads as they walked through, looking around for any signs of danger.

They found none, but unbeknownst the SG Team there was danger to be found here. Two black clothed individuals, a man and a woman, each carrying a carbine had seen them walk through the Stargate and as one rolled with a camera the other radioed in. They'd hidden themselves in a small bar/diner, hidden behind hanging bead curtains with many different patrons moving back and forth across their field of vision. There was no way SG-1 could have seen them with everything going on.

"Greetings noble Taur'i," Min Sun spoke to Brenda calmly, giving her a bow, "I am glad you were able to come."

"It is our honor your grace," Brenda replied, "I would like you to meet my translator, Dr. Walt."

Dr. Walt bowed in respect, and then spoke a word of greeting in Mandarin, to which Min Sun smiled ear to ear at hearing his native tongue. The two exchanged some pleasantries in Mandarin, and then Brenda turned to the rest of the team.

"I'd like you to meet the rest of SG-1, and that man there is Colonel Jack O'Neill, the commander of the military portion of the team."

"The O'Neill?" Min asked in awe at the mere mention of his name.

"Two point oh," O'Neill chirped smugly.

"It is a great honor," Min responded, bowing the deepest of any of them.

"To you as well sir. Now, I trust we are here for a reason?"

"Ah, yes," Min replied, "A group of explorers came through the chapa'ai last night. They'd said they'd heard of the Taur'i and asked if we could introduce them to you. And so, here you are."

"These strangers?" Brenda asked, her curiosity peaked, "What can you tell us about them?"

"I don't remember everything, there were so many visitors last night it was rather difficult to remember. But they did look as you do, with firearms like yours."

"Did they give you a name?" Dr. Walt asked.

"They did, however…I can't recall it."

"That's fine, where are they now?" Brenda asked.

"There were many of them, more than you came with, but one of their leaders and a few others went to the palace. The rest are exploring our city I'm sure that you'll see them about," then the Stargate began turning once again and this got his attention, "Ah, if you'll excuse me."

O'Neill nodded to Brenda and waved SG-1 over to his position where they gathered around.

"Okay, these people want peaceful contact, no need to walk in with a dozen troops in front of them, Blanton, take Gibson and go with Jackson and Dr. Walt, keep an eye on things report back on your status when you make contact. The rest of us, split into your teams, take a look around, and don't do anything stupid."

"Copy that sir," Rosario chuckled, "Team Two on me, come doctors," she said calmly, waving their biologist and geologist to follow along with them.

"Mind if I tag along?" Dr. Tew, their medical assistant, asked as he walked up behind them, looking to add himself to that team.

"The more the merrier," Hailey grumbled nonchalantly as they walked along the long artificial dock and market, leaving the other half of SG-1 behind.

"Jackson, Dr. Walt, if you'll follow me please?" Major Blanton confidently responded as he stepped forward waving the two along to follow him, "Gibson, on our six."

"Oh I see how it is, send the guy you don't like to where it's most dangerous huh?" Gibson grumbled, but he didn't mean it. Messing around, so long as it was harmless, was what he did.

"Alright, the rest of you on me," O'Neill called out, waving everyone left to follow him.

The team he now had with him was commanded by Blanton, with Captain Pauley, Lieutenant Holden, and Lieutenant Newbold. The civilians he had under his command were the two tech specialists, Dr. Underwood, and Dr. Ellis (Better known as Ruby due to her insistence her mother was Dr. Ellis), and lastly their medical specialist, Dr. Lawson. Needless to say he had quite a lot of personality under his command right now.

"So…" Underwood said calmly, looking enviously at the source of a wafting scent of cooking pork, chicken, and fish, "Before we go we might wanna…fuel up real fast."

O'Neill and the others looked at the spot he was looking at, seeing a white walled restaurant with a series of tables within a large inner veranda and an open kitchen underneath the roof with smoked and cooking meats hanging or spinning on rotisseries. The place seemed to be filled mostly by visitors judging by their own apparels and skin colors. O'Neill felt his stomach reacting to the smells and sights of food, as every SG Team's protocol was not to eat a meal before a trip through the Stargate.

"We can spare…" O'Neill looked at his watch, seeing that they had plenty of time, "oh let's say a maximum of a half hour."

"Sounds good to me," Dr. Lawson, better known to them as Cat, shrugged her shoulders, "The food here is known to be quite safe as long as it's cooked."

"Let's eat!" Underwood whooped in anticipation and went to the entrance and bowed in politeness and waved to his Ruby and Cat, "Ladies first."

"Why thank you," Cat chuckled, flipping Underwood's hat off as she passed by.

They all walked in as a rumble off in the distance got the four soldiers' attention.

"Great, can't stay out of the rain even on a different planet can we?" Pauley grumbled as he looked at the dark foreboding thunderheads rolling in.

"Good thing this stuff is hydrophobic for the most part," Newbold responded equally grimly, holding his M-506's stock against his waist with the weapon almost on display for anyone with bad intentions to see and understand that they were not to be trifled with.

"I wonder if we can reserve a table though," O'Neill mused good-naturedly as he walked in, glad that this was all the problems they would have to face today. He could live with rain, rain wasn't like getting shot at.

As the Newbold followed him inside Captain Pauley stopped to see Lieutenant Holden not going in. She was their young brunette sniper, and she was looking around, her eyes scanning back and forth. Something had her on alert, and Pauley picked up on it and walked over next to her, facing towards her so they were both looking in opposite directions.

"We're being watched sir," she said with a low whisper.

"Look at where we are Lieutenant, everyone's watching us," Pauley grumbled to her.

"It's not like that Captain, we're-we're being scoped out, I can feel it," she responded, trying to pin down what and who was examining them.

"Alright, do a quick sweep, stay within twenty meters of us. If you do see whoever's watching us report back and get your ass back here. Do not engage," Pauley nodded, knowing she was not going to let this go until she was able to search and satisfy that itching feeling in the back of her mind.

"I'll right back sir," Holden said and then turned and walked into the maze of market stands and disappeared amongst the crowd now starting to thin out as drops of rain began coming down.

Another rumble of thunder made Pauley look into the sky and back away into the courtyard as everyone else began moving inside with an old man eagerly beckoning them forward. He walked in as O'Neill noticed the absence of Holden immediately when Pauley walked in.

"Holden?" he asked.

"Went to sweep the market, said she felt like we were being scoped out."

"She's still jumpy as hell," O'Neill said, "Better get used to being the center of attention or she'll be nothing but frayed nerves by the end of the month."

"That's what I told her sir. Best to let her figure it out."

Holden was going to figure it out, she'd ducked into the long market building and ascended to the second floor balcony where she could have a bird's eye view of the area. This market was quite large, going all the way down the kilometer of dock to the city. From time to time it split into a four-way street with sub-docks branching away from it. The boxy sails of ships coming and going or at dock were everywhere, and the people moving through the market were thick as flees. But that was starting to change, the market stands were beginning to close up, meaning less people to get in the way, and a better chance of seeing the people Holden was sure were watching SG-1.

She carefully walked well away from the balcony railing down the length of the dock for a little while, sometimes having to shoo away people trying to sell something. But then she saw exactly what she was looking for when she got to a bunch of silk hanging from the overhanging roof and took a knee behind a table covered in the rolls of fine cloth. She was seeing two black clothed individuals with light helmets, goggles and short carbines in their hands moving carefully from point to point across from her team. She couldn't get a good look at them but she was sure that this was them.

Without a word she got down a flight of stairs and rushed across the cobble stone street and got into the building where she knew those two men were moving behind. She carefully inched her way around to a point where she could see them doing the exact same thing she was doing. They were both leaning against the wall, keeping an eye on where the others had just gone into. One held a camera in his hand that recording everything while the other one was watching carefully for anyone coming around behind them with his carbine held tightly.

Holden knew that she couldn't engage them, she was alone, and they were just watching them. So she did the next best thing. She took a small cylindrical camera she had on her shoulder, unclipped it, and then aimed it at the two soldiers watching the restaurant. She wanted to get this on film, and she did, but there was a problem. She'd left her rear wide open, and paid for it.

"Hands in the air," a feminine voice growled from behind her.

Holden whirled around, dropping her camera and grasped onto her M-518, ready to bring it to her shoulder. But that plan was cancelled before it began. She had two more near identically equipped individuals aiming a carbine and a SAW right at her. This sight sent a gut wrenching fear into her as the two other soldiers she'd been watching came running over. All she could do was to do as they said, and give them a death glare as best she could.

"Police her weapons," the woman, a tanned short-haired woman slightly shorter than Holden, ordered the man with the SAW.

"Yes ma'am," the man said and carefully unbuckled her DMR and leaned it against the wall before spinning her around and removing her pistol and knife.

"What the frak?" one of the watchers stuttered at the sight of Holden right there as their comrade patted her down for more weapons.

"You were being watched," the woman said with annoyance and handed one of them her rifle.

"Oh frak, what now? We can't let her go now!"

"If you know what's good for you that might be your best option," Holden said, putting her hands on her head, and began reaching for the mike in her ear so that the others would know what'd transpired.

"No you don't!" the SAW gunner snapped, yanking both hands off her head and then grabbed the visible black wire coming from her ear and traced it back to where it plugged in with her armor's comms suit on her back and unplugged it, much to Holden's annoyance.

"What was she trying to do?" the woman said, looking at what he'd done.

"Alert the other Earthers," he said, "Yeah, we definitely can't just let her go."

"No we can't," their officer responded, "Shit…" she growled in frustration, "I guess I know how they felt when they captured Dean. Frakkin' no win situation. Alright we're takin' her to that inn. Sorry about this, we didn't want it to go this way. You'd do the same thing, in fact you have."

Lieutenant Holden didn't say a thing. She just gritted her teeth as she felt her arms pulled to her sides. One of them grabbed her by the handle of her backpack and was yanked her into moving along with them. She was forced to fall in behind the commander of the foursome with the other two on both sides, keeping her in a loose bubble as they carefully skirted around, moving away from her own comrades and towards dangerous territory. Needless to say, this was not good.

As one half of SG-1 relaxed, unaware one of their own had been kidnapped (against the will of both parties to be fair), the other half was off exploring. Major Rosario had her team going through the market, looking at numerous stands as they were shutting down for the day due to the impending storm.

"Whoa, check this out," Dr. Lopez called out as he saw a building at the end of the branch dock they were on. What he'd found was a series of large slabs of what appeared to be either marble or granite stacked outside a building with a large ship and several different cranes all built around it to offload the heavy cargo.

"Yeah…rocks," Lieutenant Baird grumbled as he walked over and gave one of the slabs a soft tap with his foot.

"Oh he's just a geologist, have some patience," Dr. White chuckled as he absentmindedly looked through his own samples of flowers he's gathered at a vendor for a few blank silver coins issued for the purpose of trade. The EDF had produced thousands of them with its matter synthesizers as gold was still a fairly universal trading commodity.

"Oh and what're you doing that's so important with your flowers there amigo?" Dr. Lopez responded with equal contempt as he ran a testing tile along the granite pieces.

"Well if you must know I am unraveling a new ecosystem, you're looking at rocks," the biologist replied as he sat down on a bench as he continued his examination.

"Pinche puto," Dr. Lopez scoffed.

"Hey!" Rosario snapped loudly, "calmarse o estaran siento!"

"Siento, siento," Lopez waved her down, well aware that she'd probably live up to her threats.

"What'd she say?" Dr. White replied, curious as to what she had said.

"She said shutup or you both will be sorry," Hailey responded as she looked through a stand that had several items she was recognizing, "Major, check this out."

"What is it Hailey?" Rosario grumbled as she came up next to her second-in-command as Hailey picked up a red crystal.

"Gou'ald data crystals," she responded, looking at it through the light for any imperfections, "Good condition too."

"How much?" Rosario asked, digging into her pack for a bag of silver coins.

"No," the old woman behind the table replied, "Sold."

"Sold?" Hailey asked, "To who?"

"Me," a young voice said calmly as a young black-haired man with a backwards facing ball-cap dressed entirely in black stepped in between them, "Here you are."

"See?" the vendor took a small golden rectangular prism rubber-banded together and then responded to the two women, "Sold. See, gold."

"Pleasure doing business," the man responded confidently and took the crystal along with three other crystals and wrapped them in a white cloth before putting them in a backpack he slung over his shoulder. They both saw he was wearing a military-looking get-up, with a poncho on over his uniform and his sleeves rolled up so they couldn't see any actual markings.

"Hold on," Hailey snapped as he began walking away, grabbing his pack.

"What? I didn't steal this stuff, or did you not pay attention just now?" the curly haired man responded with an air of arrogance equal to those who had reason for being arrogant.

"Do you have any idea what those things are? Or do you just like buying things?" Hailey snapped back.

"And how might you know gorgeous?" he chuckled back to her.

A furious flash of red went right across Hailey's cheeks at this particular tease. Normally Hailey would just start wailing on him but she couldn't afford another instance of that on her record. So she fought down the frustration and decided to verbally make him look bad.

"I probably know more than you do, those crystals are Gou'ald data storage units."

"Gou'ald data storage…" the man mumbled, looking at her in curiosity, "Well, they're certainly not going to the rock people. These are mine now."

"You have no idea what you're working with," Hailey chased after him as he began walking away.

"Oh I don't? I must be a fool then, because a 3-D mapping of the crystals' molecular structure and atomic bonds must not be how I start," the man said as he continued walking away and they just kept getting farther and farther away before he turned up the street to the right.

"No, it's more complicated than that!"

"Hailey!" Rosario yelled after her, just now becoming aware that her team XO and tech specialist had just about run off.

Hailey stopped as she got to the corner in time to see that the man she'd been following, unconsciously, had led her to his own team, five black clothed individuals, three carrying carbines and another carrying a machine gun, all saw the bright green camo uniform of Hailey walk around the corner right on next to their own civilian charge.

"Doc, what the frak have you been…" one of them stuttered as they realized that there was a problem here. He furrowed his brow as he tried to recognize something familiar about Hailey's uniform and equipment. Then he found it within a recent memory, "Hey you, hold on!"

"Shit!" Hailey snapped and turned to ran, heading right back towards her team mates. Hailey had a photographic memory so she knew exactly who these people were.

Instead of running full tilt she felt her backpack get grabbed as she turned. It was the Colonial she'd been talking with, he'd seen that his own comrades wanted to speak with her, so he'd just decided to try and help, and he let her know that.

"What're you…" Hailey roared, turning around brought her rifle to the man's face in an attempt to get him to let go.

"We just want to talk," he said, holding a hand out in front of the barrel of her rifle, trying to calm her down, "Hear us out."

"Put the weapon down," several Colonials uneasily said to Hailey as they reached the two.

"We just want to talk," the man said calmly, but Hailey didn't back down, "Uh…my name's Dr. Cruz, I'm our team's tech specialist. You?"

Hailey didn't budge from her position. She didn't trust Colonials, and with good reason, she'd been shot by one the last time they'd came across one another. It wasn't an injuring blow in the least, but that tends to eliminate the possibility of trust.

"Let me go, now," Hailey just growled, "and back off."

"Okay, but please hear us out," the man said calmly, slowly letting go of the handle on her backpack and backed away, hands in the air.

"Right…" the Colonial officer said uneasily, "Now lower your weapon, no need for anyone to get hurt."

"Good advice," Major Rosario piped up from out of nowhere.

The Colonials looked up to the second floor of the market building next to them to see three more members of SG-1. They had seen that Hailey had gotten into a bit of a pickle, so they'd flanked the group she'd gotten into a standoff with, ascending the stairs quietly until they were able to announce themselves. They each had a rifle or SAW on each Colonial below them, who were surprised at the presence of more Earthers.

"Now," Rosario calmly said, "No one's done anything to anyone here. So let's just calm down."

However at that moment Lieutenant Holden, and her four captors, walked around the corner to see this Mexican Standoff developing before them. She'd been caught trying to catch some Colonial look-outs herself, and due to the Colonials' paranoia for their own safety they'd decided it best to just bring her along. It wasn't the best decision, but it they just couldn't trust her not to turn around alert her comrades who were as likely to start shooting as they were to take off running before they could speak to them.

"Oh frak," their officer growled, shoving everyone back behind a building.

"There a problem?" Holden chirped, having a pretty good idea as to what was going on.

"Shut up!" the Colonial woman snapped, her mind racing to figure out what to do now, "Shit! This is not good, this is not good…"

"Eltee?" one of the men asked her.

"Section Two is in a standoff with an Earth team. They see this," she pointed out, motioning to Holden, "We could have a shootout."

"Well that's not good, for you," Holden chuckled, confident in her comrades' abilities.

"Since when did you think you'd win?" one of the men snapped defensively, "Last you're the one who's captured."

"Yet I'm not the one who's got the problem of being on the moral low ground."

"Hey, you're the ones who kidnapped one of our people on Kobol, and your people fired the first shots at our troops on a planet outside our territory not too long ago."

"Oh yeah, Major Blanton," Holden chuckled, remembering the story that their XO loved telling, "And to be fair she sought those Aussies out and I wasn't there."

"Oh so you're familiar with those incidents," the Colonial lieutenant responded, rolling her eyes as she looked around the corner at the developing situation.

"Well you're dealing with that team," Holden noted with a shrug.

"You were there?!" one of the others snapped, grabbing her by the hard cloth-covered armored piece on her upper chest and shoved her against the wall.

"A little pissy your guys couldn't handle us?" Holden smirked, right in his face.

"Arrogant bitch," the man hissed.

"That's enough sarge," the lieutenant snapped quickly, knowing that Holden was just poking and poking, trying to deliberately keep them off balance mentally, "And you need to seriously shut up," she said directly to Holden, "I've got cuffs and tape in my pack and I will use them."

"Please don't, you'll only piss her off," a new voice belonging to Colonel O'Neill called out.

The Colonials turned around, coming face-to-face with O'Neill, Captain Pauley, and Lieutenant Newbold aiming their weapons at them with Dr. Underwood, Dr. Ellis, and Dr. Lawson all poking their heads out from around the corner.

"Shit…" one of the Colonials grumbled as he put his hands up.

"Holden, grab your stuff," Pauley ordered his DM quickly.

The brunette walked over to one of the Colonials with a smug smirk on her face as she retrieved her rifle, pistol, and combat knife. The Colonial was simply pissed, he'd gone from the captor to the captured.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way but…" Holden chuckled, mimicking the Colonial officer, "Move it."

Colonel O'Neill grinned in contentment at the Colonials who glared at him before motioning for them to walk. The rest of the SG-1 team forced them forward with their civilians right behind them, watching in curiosity. They walked into the open, just in time for them to see their comrades in a Mexican Standoff with another portion of SG-1. When they saw their comrades with hands held high they knew they'd been out-done this day. Their commander ordered them to lower their weapons, and they all gathered into a group. But they had gotten a call out. SG-1 only had about half of the Colonials that were on this planet.

Unknown to all of them the small negotiation team of Brenda Jackson, Dr. Walt, Major Blanton, and Lieutenant Gibson had already made it to the large palace standing proudly at the foot of the dock, across a large public square. They'd jogged inside the massive open red doors, unaware they were being watched from several angles by the remaining half of the Colonial Recon Team. At this point the Colonials didn't know about the fate of their comrades, but they sure recognized them.

"Extraordinary," Dr. Walt breathed as they entered the grand courtyard of the palace.

Surrounding them was a tall wall with guards standing at attention holding spears with long yellow and red flags flapping in the wind. There were large straight-edged buildings on three sides of them with their blue-green tiles shedding off some of the rain now beginning to fall. There was a large fountain in the middle of the courtyard with an intricately carved quintuplet of Asian dragons with water coming from their mouths and overflowing from the elevated platform they were on. Large trees were scattered in a pair of parallel lines going towards the main palace building. Each was covered in bright yellow flowers that were raining onto the stone ground with each blow of the wind.

"Looks familiar," Brenda mumbled under her breath as she walked in, leading them in.

"Yes, very reminiscent of the Forbidden Palace," Walt responded, "I've been there before and I must say this is…"

"Another league of cool," Gibson said with complete admiration for his surroundings.

"Well it does seem to certainly be bigger, with more complex additions such as running water obviously," Walt said as they passed the dragon fountain.

"I'd bet the Chinese were not all that happy to see their great palace got one-upped when they first saw this place," Blanton chuckled, knowing the Sinocentrism habits of their Chinese teams.

"Pillocks," Walt snapped, "I almost forgot."

The older man pulled out a camera and began snapping pictures as they walked towards the entrance which was a tall flight of ten stairs with guards standing on both sides, not holding muskets, but holding Staff Weapons. This was a clear sign that this was once a Gou'ald controlled planet, and these people had taken what was once a weapon of oppression and turned it into one of honor in the hands of their Royal Guards.

They entered the building, astounded to see a massive entranceway with tall red columns with three levels of balconies built amongst them. Expensive embellishments were everywhere, and a green jade floor echoed every sound of their wet boots. They walked onto the floor and noticed a gold symbol molded into the floor that they recognized.

"The symbol of Yu," Walt said with amazement, kneeling down and taking off his hat to inspect the floor, "We always suspected…but it seems this is pretty affirmative confirmation gents, and lady."

"Blanton, this is O'Neill," the Major's radio crackled in his ear.

"I read you Colonel," Blanton responded, turning away from his comrades to answer the call.

"Be advised Major, we've caught ourselves some Colonials. Keep your eyes open."

"Don't worry sir, we're in the palace now, should be making contact with…" Blanton trailed off, his eyes catching sight of something in a branching hallway.

He wasn't quite sure what to make of it, but he knew he saw something or someone.

"Blanton!"

"Wait one sir," Blanton said, aiming his rifle down the hall as he walked towards it.

He cleared the rows of columns, seeing nothing but torches and unlit candles. He then went to the hall, and poked his head in, and saw nothing. This was somewhat of a concern, as he could have swore he saw something.

"It was nothing sir," Blanton responded, "We'll get Jackson and Walt to the meeting and keep our eyes open."

"Very well, O'Neill out."

"Jackson, Doc, come on, we've got places to be!"

The foursome walked out of the entryway, and made their way through the halls, passing several rooms with secretaries working on scrolls, musicians, and even some concubines that actively flirted with them as they passed. The whole time they were being watched, Colonial troops shadowed them from within several of these rooms, moving into the hall and stayed around the corner as they followed them. By the time they made their way to a large open room the SG-1 team could just feel that something was wrong.

The room was rather large, with a single long table in the center of the room with cushions for sitting around it. A long paper window was directly across from the entrance to the room and many different tapestries and flags and banners were hanging from the walls and ceiling all along the lengths of the walls. The floor was soft carpet, and the burning incense and candles on the table provided more light than the ever-darkening sun, thanks to the cloud cover, could provide.

"Wow, nice place," Brenda chirped as she walked in, unaware of the danger around them.

"Isn't it?" a new raspy male voice called out.

Low and behold came a man from behind a hanging tapestry, aiming his carbine from the hip. His black uniform clearly indicated that he was Colonial, and he wasn't alone. Five more Colonials emerged from the cover of the walls, aiming their weapons at the Earthers, each was yelling for them to drop their weapons, don't move, hands up, and so on.

The four Earthers moved to escape, but four more Colonials ran inside from the door they'd just entered from, aiming their weapons at them. The yelling continued for several moments as Blanton came up with a plan and put his left hand to his belt, and grasped onto the pin of a flash bang grenade and held his right hand in the air and then pointed his pointer finger up. It was a sign for 'hold on' and the Colonials saw this and the yelling died down.

He continued pulling on the pin with his thumb, and pulled the flash off of its place and then spoke to Brenda who had backed up near him and as had Dr. Walt.

"I've got a plan," Blanton whispered, "It might get us killed, but if it works it'll be seriously badass. Cool?"

"Absolutely not!" Walt responded, "I will do no such thing."

"Cool…" Blanton said carefully, ignoring the older man entirely.

"Blanton…" Brenda whispered, trying to get his attention.

"Flash out."

The faces of the Colonials was one of confusion, it was just so out of the blue. But the flash bang grenade the fell to the floor was certainly enough for them to notice, and instinct took over.

"Grenade!" each of the Colonials roared in unison and ducked away, opening a hole for the SG-1 team to rush forward.

"Run!" Blanton roared, and he grabbed Brenda and Dr. Walt and shoved them forward.

The flash bang rolled on the floor and a second later it detonated in a powerful bang and a bright flash, as the name would suggest it might. The Colonials had turned away, but the confined space, even as big as the room was, didn't numb down the effects by much. The two Earther military personnel were able to keep their momentum going forward, and ran clean through the paper window/wall in front of them and fell onto the sloping of the bluish green roof tiles, and tumbled. They took a great many of the tiles with them, tumbling off of the roof, and fell a full floor to smash into another set of paper windows and tumbled into a kitchen, sending pots, pans, food, cups, and all matter of utensils flying in all directions.

"Dammit…" Blanton groaned, shoving a few metal woks off of his chest as he sat up, aiming his rifle at the hole they'd just come through, "Gibson, Walt, Jackson, sound off."

"Major remind me to kick your ass," Gibson groaned, getting up off of the ground, brushing off hundreds of grains of rice that had gotten onto his uniform.

"Jackson? Walt?" Blanton called out, looking around in the mess they'd made, but his stomach dropped at the lack of two civilians, "Oh crap."

When the flash had gone off the two civilians had been too disoriented. They just couldn't make it, and had fallen onto the ground. Dr. Walt was the first to get his bearings, and rushed to grab Brenda who was still holding her hands over her eyes.

"Damned grenade!" she screamed, "I looked right fucking at it!"

"Bad idea," the Colonial commander said calmly, and both Earth civilians looked up into the barrels of four Colonial rifles, pointing right at them. Walt, in classic British tact, just couldn't leave the situation be without a few words being said.

"Oh bugger."

**It took me a bit longer but I did it. This one I had to really be very careful with, lest I have one side do something stupid, or too stupid I guess would be the correct term. There are a few things that aren't entirely realistic but these teams are still new to their jobs, with the exception of O'Neill. Neither wants to start a war, and yet both don't want contact with the other unless they have the upper hand, that leads to some tense moments, as you will see later on.**

**Unfortunately tragedy has occurred since I began writing this chapter. In Brussels the evil cowardice of terror has struck again. The dead have yet to be completely counted, and the wounded are still not out of the woods. So I would like to ask that if you do pray, you pray for the victims and the victims' families who are going through this tragic moment. And to the people of Belgium, of whom you have given me 155 views this month (I am not sure how correct this is I am using Google Translate):**

**Plus forts ennemis vous ont attaqué. Vous êtes toujours là.**

**Next Chapter Preview: The Colonials cross a line without knowing it.**


	16. Chapter 15

**Here's the deal guys, I'm sorry it took so long but I hit a creative dead-end. I posted that chapter, and I wasn't very pleased with it. And I looked the story over and I kind of decided to go for a more accelerated plot changing previous plans that I had hinted at. As such, I completely changed the bad guy I had in mind for the story, trust me, the enemy that I created is probably the deadliest ever seen in a Stargate fic. And I have a game that I've gotten into to thank for the inspiration. I'll tell you more about that at the end of this story. For now, we have to get going, like I said, things are about to start happening.**

Chapter 15

Location: Palace Meeting Room, Unknown Planet

Date: February 16, 2025

Time: 1825

The team was not too pleased, things were going bad, half of Colonel Black's team was captured, he'd captured two members of an Earth team. He knew he had a problem, a war might have just started. That was just the start, a large number of Earth troops were still there, holding half of his team in the city somewhere. Hostage situations were a complete unknown, no one really knew what Earth's policy was, how much they valued their own people, and how much Black might be able to bluff or negotiate his way out of this.

For figuring that out he thankfully had prisoners of his own. A young blonde woman, and an older man with glasses, neither of which struck him as military. They'd been relieved of their pistols, their knives, their helmets which contained their radios, and anything else that was mechanical in nature. Two of his troops kept an eye on them, and he also had his medical expert, Dr. Decker, take a quick look at them and make certain they were okay.

"Colonel just finished," the good doctor informed him, speaking to him quietly off to the side from the place the two green uniformed Earthers were seated unrestrained against the wall.

"Anything?" Black asked but in a whisper.

"Nah, they're fine," the younger man said calmly, "They are however quite inquisitive. It's interesting how calm these two are considering the circumstances."

"They're not worried because they know they'll probably win in the event of war," Colonel Black replied sourly.

"Well she asked me to speak with you, to try and negotiate a way out of this," Decker said without flinching, hope evident in the situation now.

"They're willing to speak to us?" Agent Fraser asked with surprise in his tone. He glanced over at the young blonde who was frowning at the group of Colonials.

"Fraser, you're up," Black said to his civilian leader, "I don't think this is the purview of a soldier."

"I'd agree," Fraser nodded, "Let's see if war can be avoided."

"I'll take a quick look around the perimeter, see if we can find the place where their escorts have gone to before anything else happens," Black said calmly, "And figure out where the palace guards and other people have gone."

"I noticed that, they sort of disappeared the moment Earth showed up."

"I'll see what we can do," Black nodded, "They wouldn't just let this go down unless someone put them up to it."

"That's for you to find out," Fraser patted him on the back as he left, "Stopping a war is for me."

The agent slung his submachine gun on his back and walked over to the two Earthers, who saw him coming. The older man whispered to the woman and she simply nodded with her face grim. He came right up to them crouched down and sighed. It was a preplanned behavior, a play to show that he was regretting what had happened and to give them a reason to think that they wanted to find a peaceful resolution, which he did.

"I take it you've realized what happened is bad for both of us?" the woman said seriously.

"We realized it the moment it happened," he responded with a nod, "Which is why I want to figure out how we can diffuse this situation as quickly as possible without anyone feeling as if they've been strong-armed or threatened. So I'll start with a basic introduction."

"Sounds like a decent plan my boy," the older man said with a smile.

"And one that's been tried before," the woman said, "It's how my father was shot."

That was a shot, and one that Fraser hadn't seen coming. The two guards, faces surprised, they hadn't expected that and looked at Fraser hoping for a good comeback. The older Earth man as well was surprised by this. Which Fraser caught onto, and knew that this woman was no stranger to the Colonials.

"Might I ask who your father was?"

"Senator Jackson, know the name?" she said with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I know he was the highest civilian authority we met from Earth and that he was at the satellite when…it happened," Fraser shrugged.

"He was shot," the woman responded, "Paralyzed from the waist down."

"We fired the first shot, he was trying to stop a confrontation," Fraser replied.

"Yet something set off our men, I started my career with that agency. We train them for fire if fired upon, and as tense as it was, a single shot would set off what happened," Fraser explained.

"It wouldn't have happened if your people had the brains and humility not to think you had the authority to arrest our people and seize our property," she growled.

"Brenda!" the older man snapped at her, "This is no time for some personal vendetta my dear."

His accent was different, more akin to Aerilon actually.

"No, this is something that has to be laid out plain and simple," Brenda replied, looking Fraser right in the eye, "Earth is not surrendering its sovereignty. Not now, not ever."

"I'm not negotiating that, I just want to make sure that this doesn't end up becoming a prelude to war and stop any lives from being lost."

"And so that brings us here," Brenda summarized.

"Yes it does, and unfortunately it isn't as simple as we'd both like it to be, for one both sides are holding each other's team mates prisoner. And we can't just trade off, that's not the ending this has to have if we want a positive _long-term_ outcome," Fraser replied, emphasizing his intent to make the situation a better one.

"Well as much as I agree," she shrugged, "My superiors don't believe that a long-term relationship is plausible without additional conflict."

"Listen," Fraser said calmly, "We don't want conflict. And we know we can't win in any conflict with your people."

"You may know that, but your people and politicians don't know that. And yes, we've been keeping tabs on your broadband communications, we can see that your people don't see this the way you do," Brenda responded with a statement that caught the Colonials' attention, "Yeah, we've also been tracking your fleet movements."

_They've placed a firm bet on bluffing and intimidating us into backing away from being aggressive_, Fraser thought to himself.

"We can contact our commander," Brenda suggested, "He's not the best politician, but he's reasonable, if we say we're working this out I guarantee that no one will get hurt."

"I'll have to check with Colonel Black, he's got the final say on that, after all, safety of the team is his responsibility."

"Better hurry up," Brenda warned.

"Give me a minute," he said calmly, standing up and walking to the hall, and turned and started going down the empty, dark wood and green jade and white marble and red banner decorated hallway.

He saw that none of the team's remaining eight troops were here. He knew four were searching the palace for the missing Earth duo that had escaped earlier. This was why he had his submachine gun in hand, just in case. He knew the Colonel more than likely had the other three civilian members of the team near their military escorts. Dr. Beverly actually came around the corner as he thought of that. His cane signaled his arrival, clicking with each step.

"Dr. Beverly," Fraser greeted him, "Shouldn't you be with one of the troops?"

"I was followed by Corporal Dean," the older man laughed off, "Once we were close she returned to her post."

"Alright we can't be too careful right now," Fraser grumbled, "An Earth team is out there right now, no telling how close they are."

"Indeed," Dr. Beverly said calmly with a nod, "Anything from our…guests?"

"Apparently the girl is Senator Jackson's daughter. She says he was paralyzed by a Colonial bullet on the meeting station."

"Senator Jackson…from the Cultural Exhibition? Oh dear," the man said, placing both hands on his cane, tapping it slightly, "She will not be an easy individual to negotiate with."

"That's the impression I've gotten already. She's a tough customer, probably a professional judging from her pedigree," Fraser said rubbing his chin.

"And the man?" Beverly said in response, "Curious, he doesn't seem like the soldier type nor a politician."

"That's something that I'm not quite sure of, he didn't say much, but I do believe that their roles have some crossover, otherwise why are both of them here?"

"And under escort on top of that, unless they were here for another reason entirely."

"We still don't know what that reason is doc," Fraser shook his head, "Frak we've frakked up here."

"It is something that just happens in these sort of situations old boy, the best you can do is take an action that keeps everyone safe."

"Right now our best chance is to get our guests in there to calm down their own team," Fraser summarized, "I'll need to talk to Colonel Black in person. Can't have anything being overheard on our comms."

"He's watching the city from the front gate, trying to figure out where everyone's gone."

"And that's another thing that's got me curious, where's all the palace personnel?"

"Perhaps there's a diplomatic protocol they observe we don't know of? Like they let the two negotiating groups alone and don't get involved," Beverly suggested, "An ancient Leonis merchant city state, Aerie, did this for centuries and they reaped great benefits."

"I'd say these guys reaped some benefits of their own over the years," Fraser said tapping the column on his right.

"Indeed, the beauty of a large cultural pool to draw lessons and ideas from," Beverly said as he tipped his hat, "If you'll excuse me Agent, I believe the two of us have work to attend to."

"Go 'head," Fraser shook his head, knowing that he wanted to speak with the Earthers, and as a cultural expert and their religious liaison he knew that this was why he was here.

"Thank you old boy," the man said as he walked into the room where the two Earthers were sitting with two armed guards watching them, "Good afternoon," Beverly said pleasantly, "Dr. Beverly, cultural and religious studies expert for Recon Team One."

"How do you do?" the older man said with some tact, using a similar accent, "Dr. Walt, cultural expert for SG/E-1."

"Ah, a fellow anthropologist," Beverly said with some surprise, "And whom would you be my dear?"

"Brenda Jackson, civilian team leader," the blonde said with some trepidation.

"A pleasure," Beverly said with a smile, examining the lovely young face which seemed incredibly out-of-place in the green armor and uniform she wore, "I am terribly sorry about the recent course of events our peoples have had happen but with some patience and faith I'm sure we can put this behind us."

"Well we need to…I don't know, be released," Brenda said testily.

"Ah, yes, of course," Beverly nodded, "Sadly the way things are we'll need to be calm about this and make contact and ascertain the whereabouts and condition of half of our own comrades. Your team took our people prisoner just as we did to you."

"I understand but I'd suggest you see things from the point-of-view of our team. We have this view of your people that states you to be dangerous and semi-hostile. A show of faith, such as our release, might go a long way."

The two guards looked at one another, they agreed with the logic of that, and there was a huge part of them that did think it was the best course of action given the circumstances. However things were rarely as simple as that. There were the condition of the mindset of the Earth team, the conditions that they would have to concede in other places for the release of their own comrades, and so forth. Just too many unknowns to simply do a release. What they needed was dialogue.

As they spoke Agent Fraser reached Colonel Black, walking through the entrance from outside in the pouring rain with his poncho absent, clearly indicating he was waiting for a fight and didn't want the inconvenience. His helmet was off, still on the top of his backpack with his black beret on his head with the silver circle, like the Ring of the Lords, and the Colonial crest behind it in a gold sheen. He had his ear mic on his right ear with the microphone near his cheek.

"Well?" the Colonel asked, walking in as both men stood in the entry, watching the misty windy rain coming down.

"Looks like we might have a way out of this," Fraser informed him, "The girl's Senator Jackson's daughter, and she, to me at least, has that mindset of finishing her father's work, insure the legacy so-to-speak."

"He seemed to be an advocate for close relations, perhaps she has the same intentions?" Black asked calmly.

"Well I think so, but she's got a bone to pick with us on another matter concerning her father. He was shot at the meeting station and is paralyzed from the waist down. She's understandably upset about it."

"That's just frakking perfect isn't it?"

"We can work past it I think. There's no reason why not, she's made all the right signs of that being her goal."

"Better make it work, I've got people at risk," Colonel Black ordered him.

At that moment they heard a noise, and both turned around to see a shadow just dance across the entrance into an adjacent hallway. They knew two Earth military personnel were still unaccounted-for, and were very much on the lookout for them. There was plenty of reason for them to be uneasy and suspicious of anything that wasn't what they knew it to be.

Without speaking both men swiftly quick-walked over to the hallway entrance, weapons levelled at it. Both held their breath, hoping it was not the Earthers, lest there be a fight. But after a second they both nodded and Colonel Black, with his carbine held high, brought it down as he ducked in, sweeping with his flashlight strobing and Agent Fraser right behind him. They only saw the numerous columns and lanterns decorating a long hall with a few closed doors along the walls. There was no sign of recent activity. But they didn't buy it.

Fraser started moving forward, sidestepping to the walls, gently opening doors as he went to clear them. Colonel Black did the same, mindful of every nook and cranny that someone could hide. As he made his way to the first door he noted that there were a few drops of water on the floor right at the entrance to one of the doors.

He waved over Fraser, pointing at the drops and then at the door. Fraser nodded, and took position behind him ready to breach. Black pushed open the door with a swift move and then aimed his rifle into the doorway, clearing the corners. Fraser cleared his corner as well, and walked in, carefully looking around. Colonel Black also followed, both men sticking to the walls, nothing was moving in this kitchen area, but the kitchen itself was absolutely devastated. A big gaping hole was torn in the paper window in front of them and pots, pans, and all manner of other such kitchen utensils were everywhere and a thick coating of rice on the floor.

"Must be where they escaped to Colonel," Fraser noted as he looked out of the hole.

Black heard him, and then saw that several parts of the hole were crushed down, dirty with black residue. He narrowed his eyes at it and then moved towards the hole.

"Yeah, but where are they now?" Black mumbled, pointing at the two spots, signaling that it very easily could have been them leaving through the hole they'd already made. He started counting down and then when he reached zero with his fingers he pointed his carbine out of the window and then ducked his upper body out of the window.

This was where the Earthers were waiting. When Colonel Black ducked out to clear the area, a pair of strong hands latched onto the back of his jacket and he was ripped from the window and thrown into the plaster wall and slammed into it. He grabbed his weapon, aiming it at the huge Earther who'd thrown him while he was still on his side. But before that happened another Earther kicked the weapon away from his right.

Instinctively Black kicked the man's legs out from under him, swinging up to his feet as the Earther himself fell onto his back. At the same time Fraser tried jumping out and holding his SMG to the big green armored man but he'd been expected, and had his SMG ripped from his hand and then slammed into his stomach and fell into the kitchen probably the same way they did.

But Colonel Black was now on the attack, attacking the big man by jumping up off of the man who had just fallen and punched him across the face. The Earther stumbled back as Black punched him again with a fast left and tried a kick his knee but the man punched down, open-handing his shin to prevent the attack and attacked with an opposite uppercut and caught Black across the chin and sent him reeling. The other man was now on his feet and then three Colonial troops came rushing around the corner. He lifted his SAW and fired a long burst of red Intar rounds into the alley where they came running.

The rounds struck the bushes that the Colonials ducked behind, and the Earther did likewise, firing several bursts.

"Major! Better end this!" the man yelled as the Colonials tried getting a shot off with their stingers, well aware that the rounds were nonlethal from the report from the Colonial Commandoes who'd encountered them.

Black attacked again launching several attacks that were blocked by the larger stronger man. With a swift move he leaped up against the wall and kicked straight at the man's face that caught him in the face and sent backwards. Black rolled to recover on his feet and attacked with an upper cut as he came up and caught the man in the nose and swung at him again. But the man was quick to recover and took hits easily, and stopped the blow but he brought an elbow down on top the other man's elbow and then spun around and donkey-kicked into the back of his knee. He fell down slightly, but Black backhanded him and sent him back.

With a roar the Earth major attacked again, lightning fast power punches striking him. The first right jab caught him in the chest and a left back-handed elbow smacked him in the face and a right punch was blocked. At the same moment the man headbutted him in the face sending him back. But he attacked with a right cross that was caught and then the man wrenched it up and over his shoulder, and slammed him down into a wooden bench, shattering it.

This one hurt, but it got Colonel Black down and out of the line of fire, and as the man straightened up a quartet of prongs with attached batteries fueling a powerful electric shock struck the Earther in the chest. The blue zaps had no effect, just latching themselves into the fabric on his armor holding his ammo. He looked down at them and then at the stunned Colonial who'd fired at him.

"Oh frak…" Corporal Dean mumbled under her breath, having been the one to have fired the ineffective stun weapon, "How do we beat these guys?!"

"You don't," another voice said calmly, "We're pretty good at winning these fights."

"How ya doin' Colonel?" Major Blanton asked nonchalantly.

"Not bad, wet, but not bad," O'Neill responded with a smirk.

Behind the Colonials came four Earth troops levelling their weapons at the three Colonials. The Colonials instinctively levelled their own weapons at them creating a new standoff. This was as bad as it got, and despite O'Neill leading a section of his team into the palace things didn't seem to be much better now that they were here.

"You're not the only ones good at winning fights," Agent Fraser declared, jumping out of the kitchen window, pistol in hand, and right behind him were two more Colonials, carbine and SAW levelled.

"Ha'shak!" a new voice bellowed from behind all of them where Fraser and the two new Colonials had just arrived from, "Are the Taur'i looking for war? Hmm?!"

"Bra'tac?" O'Neill asked calmly, cocking his head, "What're you doing here?"

The old Jaffa walked with his cloak around his body, staff weapon acting as his cane. He was as regal as ever, holding a hand across his body with a handful of cloak. It was all too familiar.

"Preventing a war O'Neill," the old Jaffa said, using his staff to gently brush aside a Colonial, "And I see I am just in time. So what is it then?" he asked, looking back and forth between the Colonials as Black was getting to his feet, and O'Neill.

"They took our people prisoner," Colonel Black said with distaste, pointing at SG-1.

"And you're always stalking us," O'Neill replied, "We only came here to meet someone."

"Well it wasn't us, we asked to meet the Taur'i, can you not let us even do that?" Fraser snapped back.

"Are you uninformed human? Hmm?" Bra'tac asked pointing to the Earth team, "You have met the Taur'i."

"What?! You're the Taur'i?" Fraser blurted in shock, having had his own vision of what they were going to be.

"The one and only," O'Neill grinned, holding his arms out.

Location: Kobol, Highlands

The battle was truly underway, Colonial forces were desperately holding onto whatever bases they could hold onto. In space a half dozen Ha'tak class Motherships were just barely holding out against the combined forces of eight Battlestar groups and the Colonial civilian fleet that was protected fiercely by the massive Colonial warships. But the Colonial forces had opted to protect their civilian charges instead of evicting the pirate forces. They'd landed dozens of troop transports on the planet with heavily armed troops with a variety of weapons, mainly two mainstay staff energy weapons. Colonial ground forces held their ground at first, but their air cover was gone in the first shots from orbit.

Admiral Queen had gotten off a distress call to the RSEC and was now in full command of whatever forces were left. Reports from the wireless indicated that dozens of scientific civilian installations had been overrun and military personnel were being hunted down. But the Colonials were fighting back hard, and their well-tuned anti-aircraft umbrella had proven extremely effective. Fires and smoke columns from downed enemy Al'Kesh and Death Gliders were scattered in the wet highlands along with burnt out Colonial vehicles and buildings.

At this moment the pirates had settled down, surprised at the Colonials' resistance. They'd taken over positions, and their orbital forces had been badly hurt in their fight with the Colonial Battlestars, and weren't able to lock onto their targets accurately enough to damage the Colonials any more than they had initially now that their forces were much closer entwined with the Colonials in the rough terrain. But now, the Colonials were fighting back.

"Alright, we're in a bad state gentlemen, but we've finally gotten things settled down, give me a sitrep," Admiral Queen stated calmly as he leaned over a large table with numerous maps on it with a plethora of markings on it signifying all kinds of tactical information.

"Sir I don't know if we can call it settled down but we have a grasp of what's going on now. The fleet's gone, no death beacons from the Battlestars, but we are getting beacons from ten ships, eight destroyers and a pair of civilian ships. We can assume that we'll be launching a counter-attack shortly in orbit, but we have to get a hold of the situation here," the base commander said with a growl.

"And the situation isn't good sir. Enemy forces have taken over the main base of operations in the plains, reports are stating that we've taken heavy casualties and hostages are being held there. We've also lost contact with all of these facilities around here," another officer, a Marine general, pointed out, "We're preparing units to go there and retake them and kill any hostiles we find and return with any civilians and send them through the ring."

"We've only got so many troops and vehicles," the base commander responded, "And no air support aside from a few Raptors. It'll be tough."

"The enemy cannot find Olympus, they haven't shown any signs of detecting it from orbit, but we have encountered enemy patrols around the area, they must suspect something, Olympus has more protection than anywhere else on the planet. There's no way they haven't missed it."

"Better make sure they don't have a chance to do anything about it," Queen said calmly, tapping on the table, "Launch offensive operations and rescue operations immediately."

"Aye sir."

"But we need to get one place in particular secured, and secured now."

This was the signal several newly arrived battalions of Colonial troops had been waiting for. They'd arrived in full combat gear, with their Colonials' more powerful and longer-ranged assault rifles **(Imagine the G-36K)**, their SAW's **(Imagine the Daewoo K3),** and their anti-tank weapons **(Imagine Panzerfaust 3)** and their pre-positioned armored vehicles and artillery. Each man was heavily equipped with the speckled green, black, and brown camo uniforms **(German Flecktarn)** and webbing on their helmets and uniforms which many had started putting branches, leaves, and grasses into. They also had camouflaged their own four-wheeled armored cars **(Imagine the Didgori-2 MRAP)** and their larger eight-wheeled MRAP's **(Imagine the Lazar 2 MRAP)**. They were ready.

A convoy of several companies was quickly assembled, and they rolled out into the darkness with their infantry escorting the vehicles along well-worn paths. They began splitting up, working their way forward along the main roads to the established outposts to find nothing in some places and in other places they found civilians hiding out in the forest. But no enemy was encountered, and the Colonial troops knew something was going to happen, there was just too much going on for there to be anything else waiting for them but a fight. And a fight was indeed waiting for them.

The farthest forward of the units was a scout platoon of Colonial Army troops in their three four-wheeled "Chariot" MRAP's and a single eight-wheeled "War Wagon" MRAP. The forty-two Colonial troopers had arrived that morning, and were ready and eager to fight for the sake of their ancient homeworld.

They had their infantry up ahead of their vehicles a few dozen meters, their remote control turrets panned back and forth, their heavy machine guns and the forty millimeter grenade launcher on the larger vehicle ready to engage. They all had their night vision goggles down over their eyes, and the little bit of moonlight they had was a decent light for their green-tinted vision.

The Colonials had been tasked with securing a sacred place, the Tomb of Athena. All of them knew the importance of this place, although not the exact specifics. But all of them were ready for whatever may come.

The platoon split up into their squads, and the big fighting vehicles crawled forward. They saw the charred remains of the buildings that had been set up there. They saw nothing aside from scattered trash and debris as they swept forward. No one was there, the pirates probably hadn't stumbled upon it. The platoon leader relayed the information that the Tomb was secured and the unit pressed on as the rest of the company arrived to fully secure the area.

But right as the lead Chariot crested a ridge a large yellow glob was fired from the forest. It struck the camouflaged vehicle on the driver's side, blasting open that door, and the driver flopped out with smoke rising from burns along the left side of his body. The infantry rushed forward, firing their weapons at the sources of the enemy fire, which was now a series of blue and orange blobs as the pirates fired in rapid succession. Their night vision was nonexistent, but the Colonials on the other hand had quite a bit. The gunners picked out the white silhouettes of their foes, lighting them up one by one through the trees as their infantry laid down serious fire.

The ripping and popping sounds of the Colonial weapons easily drowned out their foes' weapons. And more importantly outgunned them. Within moments of contact the Colonials had wiped out the little band that had ambushed them with a lucky shot from their lone staff cannon. The only Colonial casualty was the driver and the gunner of that vehicle, who had both been badly burned, but were otherwise alive.

The same wouldn't be said for others, whose time was yet to come.

Location: Battlestar Galactica, Orbit over Caprica

Over the capital planet stood two closely spaced Battlestars, one was brand new, the lead ship of her class. Her lines were sleek and clean. It lacked the predatory knife-like edges of the Valkyrie class or the sheer power of the Mercury/Pegasus Class, but instead had a mixture of both. Next to her was a different ship, one of old roots, one of the original twelve Battlestars to defend the Colonies. They had one thing in common, their names.

The Battlestar Galactica was ready for her maiden voyage, destination: classified. But the old warhorse, the original Galactica would stay behind, now fully interned as a museum ship. Her purpose was no longer as a ship of war, but of education and remembrance. And as fitting tribute the new Galactica would bid her predecessor farewell and vice versa.

Standing at the CIC of the new Galactica was an emotional Admiral William Adama. On the screen in front of him he was able to see the old Galactica, proud as ever, facing the nose of his new command, head-to-head. It pained him to see this, but it was simply the way it had to be.

"Mister Gaeta," Adama spoke, preparing to order the customary maneuver that such a moment dictated.

"Aye sir."

"Give her our regards," Adama stated.

"Aye sir, helm, fifteen degree down angle, come right to two-three-zero, pitch to three five degrees," Gaeta called out as calmly as ever.

The bulk of the new Galactica heaved to, diving down slightly, but staying place. This maneuver was one of ancient roots, and was a sign of great respect between the seafaring captains of old Caprica. In the days when the masters of ships wore elaborate hats with all manner of feathers and decorative styles the greatest sign of respect was to take off that hat, and bow as you crossed the hat across your body. It was this movement that the new Galactica's maneuver replicated.

This maneuver was one that ships of the Colonial Fleet seldom practiced, and rarely used because of its importance as a sign of tribute and respect to the receiving ship. Normally it was an honor reserved for the President's ship of that of a high-ranking government official or for the change of command ceremonies for a fleet or other such occasions. It had never been done for a ship because of that ship, and no one aboard her.

The Battlestar Galactica was the only ship to warrant this high honor because of what she was. And it was not just the new Galactica that paid her this honor. Around the Galactica were a multitude of civilian ships and a handful of other military ships. Each gave this zero gravity bow to the old warhorse, a tribute to her service.

With the maneuver complete Admiral Adama looked at his old friend, Saul Tigh.

"Almost feels like she's saying thank you," Tigh sighed to his old friend and commander.

"She is," Adama responded, "Let's make her proud."

**There we go guys, figured I needed to pull out all the stops for this one. And I think I did a decent enough job of it. So yeah, writing this chapter took me nearly three weeks of write, research, review, and editing but I think I've finally gotten back into the hang of things. Also, I do believe I promised an explanation of what I've been doing and what the new bad guy would be.**

**I've gotten into an MMO, Eve Online, perhaps the finest game I've ever played. For those of you who do not know what that is I have a Youtube video that'll explain what it is in about three or four minutes. **

**The exact video name is "This is Eve Online - Gameplay Trailer" (Fan Fiction has issues with links)**

**And since I've played I've met some great guys, a Corporation within the game called the 256****th**** Shadow Squadron. Seriously I've never gamed with a better group of individuals. I'm as new a baby to the game and they've coached me up, funded me for a few things, and basically did so much I need to help them in some way. And I figure the best way to do that is to recruit. What do you say? Wanna join up with me in the 256****th****? If you do play Eve Online, but are comfortable in your Corp, PM me and I'll put you in contact with our CEO and arrange some sort of alliance or friendly relations. We do a ton of PvP and Wormhole operations and get ourselves into pretty good-sized fights through our many contacts third-partying us as mercenaries. Trust me, I've been happier playing with them than at any other time in my gaming career. **

**So if you're interested PM me here on Fan Fiction, and I can get you an invite to the game that can get you some benefits. If you already play Eve Online Eve Mail me, same name as the one I have here, Big Z1776.**


	17. Chapter 16

**Okay, really excited about this one guys. I'll be showing the new bad guys! I'm really excited, hope you guys are too.**

Chapter 16

Location: Terra Nova, Fort Jacob Carter Training Preserve

Date: February 16, 2025

Time: 1900

The recent unknown discovery had been something that no one had seen coming, and it was being taken very, very seriously. The EDF had taken the pentagonal structure out of the cave, and quarantined it within a large station in orbit constructed for just such an occasion. The reasons were simple, and learned through hard-earned experience.

But by now they were learning a few things about what Sergeant Hanson and Hannah McGee had unearthed well below ground. However, one of those things had the scientists puzzled a great deal. So the one and only General Samantha Carter had decided to take it upon herself to figure out what it was. A large egg-shaped object that they'd surmised to be a ship of some sort now sat in a frozen laboratory. It took up quite a lot of the room, and had a team of HAZMAT suited scientists moving around with all manner of equipment.

O'Neill walked up to a window overlooking the dark colored vessel with Carter down among them, running a scan over it as she tried to get into the inside of the craft.

"Enjoying yourself Carter?" he said into the speaker.

"Not really sir, this…thing isn't like anything we'd expected. It's…not from a civilization we've ever come across."

"Not Ancient?" O'Neill surmised.

"No sir, the markings don't jive, totally different style, it seems more akin to…personalized graffiti pilots put on their aircraft. I've sent pictures to Daniel to see if he can make sense of it."

"So any idea what it's for then?" O'Neill persisted.

Carter smiled in her HAZMAT suit, shaking her head she was about to speak when one of their scientists with a simple crowbar finally got what he was looking to do. A sudden thud and subsequent hiss signaled that success.

"General! We've got something."

Carter quickly walked over, stepping up to the man as he and several others had started shining flashlights into the opening. Carter signaled for them to open the hatch fully, and a pair of strong scientists stepped forward with a long pole and began wedging it open. The craft began opening in three directions, three panels going up and out. A pair of guards aimed their rifles over the shoulders of the scientists, but there wasn't anything or anyone to be worried about.

"Oh God," Carter said as she stepped back.

Lying on the floor was a single mummified body, with an odd bodysuit with dull ceramic silver and black on it. The scientists with queasy stomachs turned away, some of them retching in their suits. Carter took of it all, and saw that the interior was as advanced as anything she'd ever seen. There was a glass and metal screen that wrapped around a seat bolted to the floor that was as dead as the man's body. However she also saw that there were minuscule beams of light shining through, indicating that the craft had a series of catastrophic hull breaches.

"Carter?" O'Neill asked.

"We've got a body, probably human, as for the ship…no idea sir, no obvious control surfaces aside from a screen, and the markings…" she said as she examined it closely, "Still unfamiliar."

"Alright, what're your guesses?"

"It could be anything from an escape pod to an exploration craft. The fact is I don't have a clue."

"That doesn't happen very often," O'Neill laughed, "Which means this won't have much of a break from you."

"Not in the near future sir," she surmised.

"So it'll be solved quickly then?" he quickly asked.

"We'll have to see sir, so far we're having to start from the bare minimum of the basics. Hopefully I can have something for you within a few days."

"Thanks Sam," O'Neill said as he stood up, knowing he wasn't going to be prying her away unless something far more dire came up, "Play nice with the other kids now."

O'Neill turned to leave and made for his staff car, a newly arrived black Chevy Tahoe complete with bodyguard and driver with a pair of flags with his rank insignia flapping on the hood. The vehicle was parked in the underground tunnel garage that connected to a network of underground and above-ground roads that wound their way through the Special Research Division Headquarters, Stargate Command, and the multitude of bunkers, hangars, and other such aspects of Fort Jacob Carter.

"Sir, General Landry," his aide said over his shoulder, passing a secure phone to him.

"Hank…what's new?" O'Neill greeted his second in command.

"Contact with the Colonials again Jack. This time there was no avoiding it, they inadvertently Bat-Phoned us."

"Okay what happened and how'd it happen?" Jack said quickly as he got into his car.

"An old contact on one of Yu's old capital worlds dialed in, saying they had a decently advanced people looking for the Taur'i. Of course we went, but it turned out to be the Colonials again for SG-1. Don't worry, Colonel O'Neill handled it, no bloodshed, a few cuts and bruises on the body and egos for some of our people and theirs but ole Bra'tac showed up after hearing of the meeting and got things going towards a peaceful meeting."

"That so?" Jack asked, annoyed at the way things had just happened after explicit orders to try and steer clear from the Colonials.

"Don't tell me you didn't expect something like this to happen Jack, you've been in the game too long to not believe in Murphy," Landry laughed.

"Well I think I'm really starting to appreciate what ole George had to put up with."

"You and me both."

Imperial Palace Meeting Chamber, P6R-111

The two sides sat opposite of one another, their civilian leadership sitting in the foremost positions while each had their military escorts, absent, excluding their military commanders standing behind them. At the head of the Earth team was the young Brenda Jackson, stoic and in the zone of politics, her natural environment.

The Colonials sat with the same two people she's spoken with earlier, Agent Fraser and Dr. Beverly, both professional as well. It was a veiled blessing that they'd been captured because it seemed that the Colonials were far more conciliatory than before, and the first thing that happened was an apology. It was a huge sign of the way the Colonials, in Brenda's mind, had changed.

Before, when she'd actually gone with her father to the Cultural Exhibition on Caprica, they'd been very prideful, showing off all they had to offer to her and Earth as a whole. The best way to describe it was a sales pitch, and the overall tone was "We have what you need and more, join us." But everyone now knew how well that seemed to have panned out for them. Earth had broken contact and lives had been lost or forever changed due to wounds and career failures on the part of some. Her hobby of keeping tabs on the Colonies had yielded surprising news of scandals and investigations into everything that had been in contact with Earth ranging from politicians to lobbyists to the Colonial military. Things were changing in the Colonies, which was why Brenda wanted a new contact with them.

Not this soon of course, but this was just the way things had worked out and as the team political and negotiations expert she had a job to do and was going to do it. However there was an additional factor, Bra'tac, the old Jaffa master had arrived at a seemingly opportune moment and this had stopped the fight that had erupted. In the following moments there'd been some lecturing, a swat on the head from Bra'tac to O'Neill and calmer heads prevailing.

"So, you had asked for the Taur'i to be summoned yes?" Bra'tac began.

"Yes, we'd heard a few things that matched up with the kind of civilization that the RSEC is interested in contacting," Agent Fraser responded.

"Well, the Taur'i are before you, speak," Bra'tac effectively ordered him.

The two Colonials looked at one another and Fraser leaned forward, "Figure it's best to ask what the status of relations between us would be?"

"In a word, not good," O'Neill piped up, "Wait, that's two words isn't it?"

"Colonel, if you wouldn't mind?" Brenda sighed, getting a mouthed 'sorry' from the man, "He's right though. Earth's policy lately has been to steer clear of you guys. The fact is we don't feel you to be trustworthy enough to maintain in-person contact."

"Well…we're certainly not in a position to say we are trustworthy right now," Dr. Beverly responded with a humble shrug.

"No I wouldn't think so," Fraser agreed and looked to Brenda, "To that end we oughta start trying to prove that now. After all, I think you are the one with the biggest axe to grind against us."

"I have that right," Brenda nodded, knowing that he was referring to her father's paralyzed lower body.

"How do we start…" the man mumbled as he considered his options.

"A state apology accepting responsibility would be a start," Brenda suggested quickly, knowing precisely what that kind of acknowledgement of guilt signified from a large established and prideful government like the Colonies.

"I'm not paid enough to make that kind of statement on behalf of the government," Fraser held his hands up in defense.

"No, not you. Your president. If you want to see something good happen between us we need to settle the matter of your government's stance that we are to be brought into the Colonies as a subordinate unit within your federal system," Brenda laid out, signaling Earth's own position in the same sentence.

"Yes I'm afraid there is also a matter of religious importance to this as well," Dr. Walt responded, adding his own say.

"I agree old boy," Beverly acknowledged, "Earth does not share our own religious beliefs. Which may be a problem for some hardliners, but they are a minority and are fading with every election but still hold sway in some ways."

"That will have to be dealt with. We've fought against religiously motivated entities and many of our servicemen died protecting Earth from that kind of threat," Brenda explained.

"I see, you're afraid we'll turn into a raging religious crusade to be dealt with," Dr. Beverly mumbled, rather dumbstruck at the notion of his people distorting their religion for such a purpose, "A hundred or so years ago that may have happened. But not now, not with the current religious foundation we've developed over the many, many years."

"That won't happen. Only two planets have that kind of religious leadership, and they're politicians first, religious second. That's just the nature of our political system," Fraser tried reassuring her.

"And the military wouldn't let such a foolish endeavor occur," Colonel Black added on top of that.

"I'm sure," O'Neill coldly responded with his arms crossed.

"Indeed, many have crossed the wrong paths with the Taur'i," Bra'tac butted in, wanting to make something clear to the Colonials, "I have seen the System Lords go from the ultimate power to being extinct in twenty years. All of it, thanks to the Taur'i."

"Your welcome," O'Neill grinned, smirking at the Colonials.

"So you're a great power, but is another great power what you truly fear?" Dr. Beverly asked.

Now a new voice filled the ears of everyone in that room. To the Earthers this was new, but to the Colonials this was actually something they'd experience once before.

"It is the consequences of power that they fear," the deep voice said calmly, "They fear their own power and what it could do to themselves and others."

"Is that?" Fraser whispered.

"Sure is," Colonel Black said with a surprised smile, "Can't believe it."

"Care to explain something?" O'Neill asked as he looked around the room.

"We've met the owner of that voice once before," Fraser explained.

"They're big, powerful, and know more than they let on," Black elaborated.

_Indeed_, the voice said with a good deal of humor in his tone, even in its telepathic form.

Right then, the seven foot plus tall owner of the telepathic conversation revealed himself, seated at the other end of the table, facing everyone. The Furling towered over all of them, but still maintained an air of calm and collected. His black fur was smooth and had a sheen to it, and he even had his silver gauntlet still attached to his arm.

"Whoa!" Brenda yelped upon seeing the figure, and O'Neill brought his rifle to his hip to aim at the creature.

"Okay…that happened."

_Sit, Colonel O'Neill_, the creature nodded slowly without moving its lips, _I am only here to speak._

"Uh-huh…" O'Neill said, and pointed to his own lips, "Yeah funny, I'm not seeing much speaking going on."

"He's telepathic Colonel," Fraser informed him, "We ran into him a few days ago."

"You 'ran into him'?" Brenda scoffed.

_Into another of my kind and then into me_, the creature responded, and shrugged, sorry about that by the way Colonel Black.

"Don't worry about it, the injuries we suffered were easily enough healed," Black responded, waving off the incident that SG-1 now really wanted to hear about.

"Hold on, who, or what are you?"

_My name is…difficult for you to pronounce_, the being stated in their minds, _but as to what I am. I am a Furling. An ally of an old friend of yours, the Asgard._

"One of the great races," Bra'tac stated, bowing in respect, "It is an honor."

_And you as well Master Bra'tac. Thanks to those like you your kind of now free._

"So you're a Furling huh? Mind if I…ask what you're doing here?" Brenda asked, clamoring for proper words.

I am on orders from our elders, they've been intrigued with the progress of these, the Furling responded, gesturing to the Colonials.

"Them?! What have _they_ done?" O'Neill snapped.

_They kept their foe from turning their fury on the other human worlds. If they hadn't spent their blood waging that war entire planets would have been wiped out. And upon further study they seem to have put themselves in a position to take the role of guardians alongside Earth. _

"Guardians? All that's left is the Lucians and some pirates. We don't need anyone else."

"Colonel!" Brenda snapped, "Listen we don't think we can trust you. Plain and simple, and we have no reason to change our minds at this time."

"That's up to us then," Fraser responded.

_And you shall need to hurry, _the Furling said calmly_, you will soon need each other._

"What're you talking about?" Colonel Black quietly demanded.

All we've been able to ascertain is that the ancestor of an old enemy of ours is returning after thousands of years of exile. We called them the Jove.

Lucian Homeworld

The Lucians had enjoyed an unparalleled level of prosperity lately. It was so prosperous that they hadn't even bothered with their previous pirate ways and thuggish habits. The Cylons had become their new workers, enforcers, and builders. But they had no idea the Cylons wished to be their executioners. The massive armada of Basestars sat in stationary orbit in defensive positions against the ever-present threat of an Earth or Jaffa assault. Swarms of Raiders roamed about, causing a shimmering coat of sparkles to appear moving between the two thousand Basestars and the hundreds of battle satellites.

These ships were no longer the same Basestars that had arrived a few years ago. Each had gone through a rapid upgrade program with the addition of shield systems more powerful than that of the Ha'tak, and eighteen plasma cannons added to their missile volleys. Their Raiders had also received a single plasma cannon like that used by the Death Gliders slung underneath their chins. Their battle satellites were a simple device, mounting six plasma cannons and a dozen missile launchers around a six-pronged metal device with a small generator and shield array mounted in its center.

These new weapons systems were all protecting a planet the Cylons had plans for, their goal being its inhabitants' elimination and replacement with a new system of Cylon models. These models, numbering in the dozens, had been in the works for years. And the first handful would be the first of many if things went well. And so far, the Lucians were none-the-wiser.

However something would change that, and the first sign of it came from a single unknown signature.

"Hey boss," a Lucian technician called out from his station in the Lucian assembly hall, "I've got something on my scanner. Looks like a ship."

"A ship?" the semi-drunk superior asked as he hobbled over, and saw the image on the old Gou'ald tech screen, "Not one I've ever seen."

The image was one of a three-pronged ship, quite small, no bigger than a small transport. The overall frontal profile was one of an arrow, its weapons were really just missile launchers, six of them.

"No idea whose it is?" the younger man asked, but then his board lit up, "It's powering its systems!"

Before anyone could say anything the ship accelerated forward from its position at the outer system. Then it seemingly darted in, in a burst of speed measured in Astronomical Units per second. The ship landed quietly several hundred kilometers from the Cylon defensive formations, which turned to face it automatically. The ship locked onto them all, the scanners sweeping across the formations as it examined the Cylon armada. Then, after assuming that it liked what it saw the pilot activated a special device, and out popped a red ball of uniquely energized material that gave off a signal that an armada was waiting for.

In a shower of red spherical bursts dozens, and then hundreds, and then thousands of gray ships appeared around the first ship. They came in an endless but standardized variety. They most numerous were thousands of frigates, many came in the original ship's design, and still others were in a stranger shape. A cockpit branched off to the side with a tall mangled hook-like hull teeming with powerful electronics were built into the ship's hold while missile launchers swiveled into position. The most numerous of this ship class was the winged swarms of ships that had their bridges mounted on a thin hull jutting in the middle of the wings facing forward, giving a fighter-like feel to the craft.

Hundreds of larger destroyers measuring a hundred meters in length shaped like sectioned boxes with wings and engines in the back in some shapes and others with lines of missile launchers along a cigar-shaped hull with a sea-faring ship-like prow in the front with armor plate jutting below and to the side with small wing-like protrusions in the rear.

Then there were the roughly one thousand cruisers that came in two primary forms. One was similar to the first frigate, with three hull connected at the engines which were the highest point on the ship. But the central hull lengthened and leveled out going forward with large missile arrays along the nose and wings. The other was somewhat more solid, with two engine nacelles out on the wings of its spade-shaped main hull with more missiles on its armored mass. Each of these was three-hundred meters long, and were the small-fry.

The big fish came in the form of three hundred battleships and five hundred battlecruisers. The battleships had a theme to them, with hulls like great birds with wide wings and stubby lengths. Massive missile batteries covered their hulls, and electronic warfare modules began activating on the less numerous class. This one was the more solid-looking of the two, with the most distinctive features with its swept forward wing hull and a tower like a scorpion's tail protruding up and forward, giving it a predatory shape. The other battleship was a different design with a main hull with a wing protrusion and an engine on the port side wing. The other three wings on the other side mounted on top of each other protruding at different angles and another small engine on one of them. This one had a pointy overall look, but was still incredibly deadly. Each had a size equal to that of any Basestar.

With them were more brick-like designs for the battlecruisers, one being having a sledgehammer bow with guns and another having a smaller profile and stubbier shape. From in front it looked like a piece of paper with two small folds on the ends, its length stretching five hundred meters. Both ships came in different paint schemes, signifying differences even within the classes.

Then came the largest ships in this fleet's arsenal. Generating enormous red globes as they arrived on-grid massive gray forms of carriers and dreadnoughts with similar overall designs emerged onto the field of battle. A dozen Dreadnoughts shaped like elongated bricks with a sensor station on a chin spire and thinning out hull to the engines dominated the sight with their four thousand meter length. Twenty twenty-five hundred meter long carriers with the same basic shape but a blue-lit opening from which dozens of flying wing fighters took off while the bridge sat on a forward protrusion in the bow at the top of the ship with stubby little wings in the lower stern and bow.

Behind these battle wagons massive tower-like support ships powered their support tech, ready to render aid to any damaged ships. These were every bit as large as the Dreadnoughts, but their size was vertical and their hangar bay wide open able to take in entire battleships in an emergency. Smaller cruisers and frigates specially designed for the support role accompanied a half dozen of these harmless ships.

All-in-all the Lucians and Cylons were faced with an unknown fleet numbering over five thousand ships. And from just about all of them came a few sometimes a few dozen drone fighters of various models. The space above Lucia was massed with perhaps the largest fleet to ever go into combat as the first volleys were fired.

Missiles launched from the largest gray ships filled the space and surged forward. The projectiles were soon joined by others from the smaller ships as they got in range. Clusters of missiles soon started making clear what was happening as targets were verified and the Cylons' swarms of Raiders began engaging the coming missiles as best they could while an angry swarm of Basestars assembled into battle formation slowly closing the distance and fired its own missiles.

Explosions riddled space as drones and fighters and Raiders tangled into a massive melee with one another. Hundreds of thousands of craft dueled and died in a furball that was entangled with the faster gray ships diving and firing their weapons into selected Cylon warships. The shields of the Cylons held from the attacks from these lighter ships and their weapons splashed across the tight hull-formed shields of their adversaries, picking the largest ships to deal with, the battleships and battlecruisers as the large carriers and dreadnoughts held back.

A surprise was in store for the Cylons, the smaller ships began moving deep within their formation and seemingly from nowhere a pulsating glowing blue orb of electromagnetic energy burst forth forming a globe surrounding dozens of Basestars at a time. The Cylon Hybrids found their FTL's were unresponsive from their orders and checks and many of their systems were sluggish and slow to respond as electromagnetic interference bombarded their ships, in some cases so much so that their weapons and missiles refused to function at all.

Then, the Cylons started to take hits, big hits. The massive missiles striking their Basestars from the enemy battle wagons were far more powerful than any missile they had, only nukes having a reasonable comparison. Their Basestars were rocked one and two and three at a time as missiles and a handful of guns and torpedoes hammered into them. The shields on several began failing and glowing brightly as they desperately ordered Raiders to swarm attack their opponents.

The first Basestar died with a massive explosion as its upgraded reactor was breached by a powerful missile blast from one of the battleships. It was not going to be alone for long. Soon other Basestars targeted in the initial wave of attacks went up, some blasted into pieces, some split in half, others just having gaping holes torn out of them sending red biomechanical debris spewing into the cold silence of space.

Some of the attacking ships took critical hits, the Cylons' hive brain working as best it could to coordinate their attacks. Some of the cruisers were ripped asunder and battleships took direct devastating hits. But the large support fleet behind them rushed to their aide, bombarding them with nanite repair swarms that rushed to the damaged components or sent waves of energy over to their comrades to boost their shields. This was an advantage that the Cylons had no answer for, and paid for it with more and more Basestars dying at the hands of an enemy that seemed to have every advantage.

And it only got worse as they neared the Colony and the battle satellite maneuvered to abandon Lucia and defend the massive Cylon station. The largest enemy ships now slowly trudged forward, their missile silos opening to loose massive missile bombardments that sent missiles and torpedoes larger than Cylon Heavy Raiders at the Cylon stations. It took very little to blow these small satellite apart, and the Basestars themselves offered less and less resistance even as several hundred joined the battle from their stationary orbit on the other side of the planet.

The wreckage was growing so thick that the swarms of Raiders and drone fighters still dueling were the only ships able to maneuver freely. Explosions and fires raged everywhere in orbit as the battle fanned out, formations of a few dozen ships slugging it out in a battle that could be seen from the surface as twinkling lights like so many fireflies.

Then, when the Colony was fully scanned, and the immense power of its shields understood something else happened. One of the reserve frigates lit another red glowing sphere, calling in one single ship built for such a purpose. As the glowing orb burned the other ships near it moved away, aware of what was coming. Then, a singular, massive red glow seemed to warp the fabric of space as a ship larger than any yet seen emerged from the singularity and replaced it altogether.

It was every as large as the Colony, measuring eighteen thousand meters in length and dwarfing everything near it with its sheer bulk. It was largest in the bow, where a fat needle-like protrusion formed a length of hull as long as one of the dreadnoughts. Missile and gun positions littered its gray surface, covering it from all angles with enough power to destroy most anything that came near. It was even seen clearly from the planet, where the population cowered from the sight of such a titan.

But it wasn't interested in them, its target lay to its left and the ship swung itself around ever so slowly to face the Colony head-on. Raiders swarmed towards it, only to be met by flak guns and drones. The Colony itself opened fire on it, sending the concentrated fire of hundreds of plasma cannons and rail guns and missiles flying towards in a desperate attempt to fend it off. It did nothing but amuse the crew of the lone ship as it lined up dead center of the Colony.

Across the ship's hull missile silos opened, and dozens of frigate sized missiles soared from their holes and bent their way towards the Colony. Such weapons rarely saw use back where they'd come from, and were the deadliest weapon in the arsenal of their owners. And when they impacted the Colony that was when the Cylons knew how futile resistance truly was. The missiles blew apart the shields, and then struck across the entirety of the Colony, tearing off entire pieces, splitting off arms of structure, sending atmosphere spewing from a spiderweb of cracks and holes caused by the deadly impacts. It only took one volley before the Colony began breaking apart and the Cylons began realizing that they'd lost.

Never had anything like it been seen before, yet there it was, and there was more yet to come.

**I'm really nervous about this, I'm not exactly sure what the reaction is going to be here but I'm really excited to really get this underway. This war is one I've done weeks and weeks of research on, talking it over with my corp buddies from EVE Online, learning all I can as quickly as I can and maxing my imagination and planning to the limit to get this written. Speaking of which, we are recruiting for our Corp if anyone is interested give me a PM here or on EVE itself if you play. If you don't play I really recommend it, great game, mostly competent adults and high school and up. **

**Also, I pretty much eliminated the Cylons and Lucians, big deal, I was kinda run out of ideas for them anyway and keeping them around in force was over-complication. I never liked writing about the Cylons, so much of them didn't make sense and was never elaborated on like the Colonials themselves but I figured a statement piece like this was the way we all would like to see them go.**

**I hope you guys are ready, that's one faction here, three to go. And if you have no idea who these people are and want some visuals just look up Eve Online University for the ships and the people. Let the action continue.**

**Next Chapter Preview: Exploration continues, yet the Colonials have unfinished business on Kobol, and the Battlestars shall lead the charge.**


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Location: Unknown Planet's Palace

Date: February 16, 2025

Time: 1730 Zulu

The negotiations were going semi-smoothly. No arguments resulted in guns being drawn, a few slightly raised voices and nasty looks had been traded of course. But as was the necessity of the type of negotiations that the Earth and Colonial teams were undergoing. After a few hours they'd decided to take a few minutes to gather their thoughts, and report back to their superiors.

Colonel Black had decided to stand out on the wall where he could keep an eye on things, still not fully satisfied with the way things had turned out. The others had settled on staying in the large entryway until Earth had done its own callback to their home base seeing as they had part of their team back at the Ring. He'd been somewhat unsettled by the ease with which his team had been captured by Earth's own team, and that was going to be settled as soon as he got them in a briefing room.

As he waited he saw a flash of white and glow of blue down at the Ring, and knew that was activated. However what happened next surprised him.

"Recon Command to Recon One, come in please," his radio crackled in his ear, the voice clearly stressed.

"Recon One Actual here, go ahead Recon Command," Black replied quickly.

"Recon One, Kobol is under attack, disengage from current mission and dial straight to Kobol. Command Actual has given the order for immediate recall and deployment of all Recon Teams. Command code Alpha Hotel Delta Two Five Seven."

"Roger that Command, command code received and authenticated, but be advised we have encountered and have been in negotiations with an Earth, repeat an Earth offworld team," Black informed them.

"Repeat Recon One, an Earth team?"

"Confirmed, Earth team designation SG-1 has been encountered."

There was a pause from the other line, and Colonel Black paced impatiently as he waited for a response. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the green uniforms of several of the members of the Earth team walking towards the wall. Before he or they got close enough to speak the line came back.

"Recon One, can you bring them with you to base?"

"Bring them to Choros?!" Black snapped suddenly, "Are you frakkers out of your minds? Of course they won't want to come to Choros!"

"What makes you so sure?" a voice from below him called out.

He looked down and saw the blonde from Earth, Brenda Jackson, the daughter of the bigwig Earth diplomat. She was standing there in front of several members of her own team. When he looked down he saw that O'Neill, the military commander of the Earth team, had grabbed her by the arm and was speaking with her with an annoyed look on his face. However she seemed to quiet him with a quick few words and then returned to speaking to Black.

"Colonel, we might not see eye to eye, but we both don't want Kobol to fall into a hostile's hands. I'm sure you don't like it necessarily, but it might help ease relations if we help you here. And frankly, you need it."

"Do you have permission from your own superiors?" Black asked, curious if the Earth hierarchy that seemed to hold the Colonies at arm's length would allow this.

"Not as of this moment," O'Neill assured him.

"Facts will persuade them, we have a vested interest in keeping Olympus out of the hands of aggressors," Brenda said with extreme confidence, as if it was no big deal.

"So do we, and I don't have to tell you we won't be letting the danger persist as is," Black responded.

"But can you handle it?" O'Neill asked, "If Kobol was so important how did the situation get as bad as it is?"

"We can handle ourselves just fine," Black replied defensively, more out of pride and an unwillingness to allow himself to admit weakness on behalf of his people.

"Can you now?"

"Jack!" Brenda yelled, "We're not going back down that road!"

"You want to help I get it, but they don't seem to want our help," O'Neill retaliated.

"We do," Agent Fraser said as he walked up to the scene, "Believe me, nothing would help the situation more than doing something together. But there are other things that have to be considered."

"Such as the fact you don't have the authority to make this kind of call!" O'Neill yelled at Brenda, who turned to face him.

"I know!"

"Recon One, we need an answer," the radio crackled.

"Yes, if we can get permission, happy?" Brenda said loudly.

"How'd you…" Fraser said calmly.

"Your comms are ridiculously easy to tap into," one of the petite officers among the Earth team called out.

"May need to have the geeks work on that," Fraser chuckled.

"Yeah maybe," Black nodded grimly, giving the man a shake of the head, "Recon Command, they said they'd come if they can get clearance from their command."

"Roger that Recon One, we're going by ear with this one. We didn't expect contact with Earth. You have one hour to get a response from the Earthers and then return to base for immediate combat deployment."

"Very well Command," Colonel Black nodded, and sighed as he turned back to the Earth team which was now gathering in larger numbers along with parts of his own team, "I take it you heard that you've got an hour?"

"We heard, we should have an answer in that time."

Kobol, Remnants of Main Colonial Archaeological Base

The base had originally been a sprawling concrete and building covered complex with a makeshift spaceport, a military airfield, and a series of specialist sub-complexes. It had just become a permanent structure on Kobol, stretching over an area well over several square miles in a valley above the ancient capital city with roads branching out in all directions.

Now, it was a sprawling sea of smoke and fire crawling with hundreds of the same pirates that had been slowly driven back from the highlands by an increasingly confident Colonial Marine Corps and Army. Not many buildings had been left unscathed as fires raged nearly uncontrollably, destroying hundreds and thousands of precious artifacts.

In the somewhat intact civilian control center the pirate commanders had set themselves up to stay. But things were not looking good for them. Many of their comrades had been falling to the advancing Colonial units counter-attacking in the highlands. Their orbital forces were however increasingly frustrating them, being unable and unwilling to dip into the planet's atmosphere to aid them. But that was the problem with the kind of ships they had.

These pirates were a rogue band, using cheaply and roughly copied Gou'ald designs built by the same slaves that the Gou'ald had oppressed which meant quality of work had suffered rather badly. Their ships had fussy generators, weak shields, and frequent break downs of other minor systems. But that wasn't to say their ships were not able to get the job done. Their weapons hadn't been all that compromised, and their speed was as good as most other earlier Ha'taks. This had been their saving grace in the engagement with the Colonials. They'd just about lost half their fleet when Colonial Battlestars, five of the upgraded Pegasus Class and three more upgraded Valkyrie Class, had unloaded their powerful magnetic cannons into the pirate motherships.

These weapons struck at glancing blows unfortunately, and had failed to bring the shields down. Meanwhile the Ha'taks had been able to fire into them for, although not as effective, much more lethal results. The smaller destroyers had been blown apart once the powerful magnetic fields surrounding the Battlestars and cruisers had proven too much of a hassle to break through for the pirates' staff cannons, for which the degaussing fields were uniquely suited. The plasma globs had dissipated upon impact, only a few shards making it through to splash upon the Colonial armor, which on the Battlestars had held on to protect their crews. The cruisers were not as lucky, and suffered damage, not crippling, but the Battlestars couldn't stay and fight the much faster pirate ships alone, and had to withdraw with what escorts they could save after recovering Vipers.

The pirates hadn't used their Death Gliders at all, waiting to rid themselves of the Colonial warships, and launched them and called in their troop transports and Alkeshes once orbit was secure. And then they'd begun bombarding the planet. The Colonials bases had suffered badly in the initial attacks, scattering their defenders and scientific inhabitants. Gliders had swooped in, ravaging any vehicles and small outposts they could find. Alkeshes had wiped out an evacuation convoy moving out of the large base, killing several hundred civilians and soldiers alike.

Then they'd come across a problem. Within a few minutes of the attack the Ha'taks had found themselves being interfered with. Their targeting scanners wouldn't work, their sensors only saw forest, and their Gliders and Alkeshes found themselves as the only air support that they could get. And then the Colonial defenders had counter-attacked under this EM interference from a still unknown source. Colonial air defenses got the measure of the Death Gliders, MANPAD Teams taking positions in ridgelines with overlapping fields of fire, with larger stationary turrets and SAM batteries prepositioned to destroy the Alkeshes that always came to aid their smaller brethren. This tactic was responsible for downing dozens of pirate attack craft, and now their pilots refused to venture near any Colonial positions. And one position that they dared not go near was a shimmering metal city-scape deep in the highlands, surrounded by an iron curtain of Colonial AA.

Yet this city-scape was what the pirates wanted most. It was a classic pirate flaw, anything shiny was what they wanted, and this was the crown jewel of the entire planet. But the intensity of the fight that they'd come upon was not what they'd expected, as the thumps of Colonial artillery in the near distance supporting their advancing ground forces reminded them. However, normal pirates would have left by now. But something else drove these men.

"What is going on up there?" the pirate ground commander snarled at a messenger who walked into the command room.

"They're driving our men back sir," the man responded tiredly, "My commander has asked for air support."

"We can't give them any air support until the ships can drop into the atmosphere. And their captains are still unable to do that with all this interference! Make due!" the older man roared, and then turned to another man working on a Colonial computer tower, "Have you been able to get that thing working yet?"

"Of course not! I wouldn't be working on it if it was working!"

"We need to figure out what they have found here. The Agent grows impatient!"

"Indeed," a deep voice stated, and the pirates in the room turned and knelt to a knee at the presence of the man who'd appeared.

This man was simply clothed. He wore a dark burgundy hooded robe, with golden etching on the seams and black around the arms and the buttons which held it closed. A thick goatee on his face was about all that could be seen under the hood and he held his hands together, sheathed underneath his robes long baggy sleeves. He was a rather large man, with a deep ringing voice that echoed the regal manner in which he always held himself.

"Your holiness," the pirate leader stated, "These barbarians are far more skilled in battle than we had anticipated. Our forces are no match."

"Your failure in vanquishing them is none of my concern. I am concerned with your refusal to put your faith in God rather than your meagre mortal might. It is God that has given you the strength to survive and it is God that has given you the right to conquer all."

"Forgive us wise one, we are still weak, God's grace has abandoned us."

"No, God does not abandon his faithful, he merely tests them. This is your test in the eyes of God," the man stated, "Your faith has been rewarded, and now that things are difficult you must choose how you face the challenge. Do you wain in the face of the unholy, or do you stand with the strength and resolve that I have shown to be with you?"

"We shall stand and fight your grace."

"Good, then rise, and let God's strength lead you."

The man beckoned them to rise, and the pirates rose, their newly-found religious fervor and more selfish quest for riches born into new desire. The hooded man, the Agent, as he had been called, smiled and left the room, walking back out into the rainy weather of the early morning, undaunted with the poor path the battle had taken for his little mercenaries. His goal was not to simply take this planet, his was a bit more humble, but more strategic.

His assignment was to see the measure of the inhabitants of this galaxy, and so far he was far from impressed. Neither were his own superiors, but his own convictions to uphold the religion of his people also played a part, and spent much of his time attempting to spread his people's gospel, inviting new groundwork to be laid for his people's coming. However that was still a ways off, and he had other duties to attend to. So he walked towards his own craft, a Gou'ald transport sitting on a landing pad on top of the command center. He'd taken this craft as his own seeing as the network needed for his own people's ships to move around had yet to be installed.

As he came to the ramp up there was a loud snap, and a metallic bang to his right sounded out. He whirled around to see what it was, himself unfamiliar with such noises. As did that he saw a slight flash on a wooded ridge a mile away. It was the last thing he ever saw. A Colonial bullet hit him right in the center of his navel, ripping through the robe and undershirt the man wore, and passed clean through his body, severing his spine and sending the individual over the railing like a rag doll. The body fell onto an air conditioning unit on the roof below, caving in the thing metal shell.

"Tango down," the Colonial spotter whispered to his sniper, "Looked like a bigwig of some kind. Big fancy robe and his own ship on the civilian command center."

"Not a bad start to the day," the sniper chuckled, adjusting his ghillie suit as he lay under a log with his spotter, concealed by some ferns and sticks, "Let's frak up some more."

Battlestar Galactica

The Galactica had been on course for Kobol for the past few hours, Adama making the call to do a test run of the new Battlestar's FTL systems in a series of rapid long-range jumps. In normal circumstances the route they'd travelled would've been done in a few days, but the Galactica, much to scouting Raptor's annoyance, had done it in a day.

After a cool-down period for the FTL's and an inspection for the engineers the new ship was ready for another stretch of jumps. She only had a few more to go, a day's travel at most. At the moment they were waiting on the return of their scouting Raptor, as was routine to make sure that the coordinates for the jump were safe for them to jump to.

"How long has the Raptor been overdue?" Adama asked from the CIC's charting table.

"Five minutes sir," Dee said from her usual spot.

"That's odd, usually they're back within a minute of their cool-down period if the area's safe," Tigh stated from across the table from Adama, "Should we send another Raptor?"

"I'll give Powerball and Whiplash another five minutes to get their bird back here," Adama declared, "In the meantime I don't wanna take chances. Set Condition One, Action Stations!"

"Aye sir!" a crewmen responded, and triggered the alarm.

"Action Stations! Action Stations! Set Condition One throughout the ship!"

The alarm klaxon started sounding out and every crew member and pilot on the Galactica began rushing to their battle stations.

"DRADIS Contact! Reading IFF, it's a Raptor sir!" Gaeta sounded off from the sensor station as Adama looked to the table in front of him to see the Colonial signal himself, but was caught off guard when he saw the IFF was different than the Raptor that they'd launched.

"That's not our bird," Tigh noted.

"Raptor-Four-Seven Acropolis to Battlestar Galactica urgent traffic," the wireless sounded off.

"That makes no sense, the Acropolis should be at Kobol," Tigh noted, remembering the list of ships present at their destination.

"Put him through to me," Adama snapped grabbing a headset, "Galactica Actual, go 'head Four-Seven."

"Message from Commander Aera sir; Kobol under attack, Admiral Balten wounded, Colonial Forces gathering for counter-attack. All available Colonial ships to rendezvous at Waypoint Eleven."

"Roger Four-Seven, land in starboard pod, we're jumping now," Adama rapidly ordered, "Dee guide him in."

"Aye sir."

Within a minute the Raptor had landed and was firmly in place on the landing deck, and the Galactica jumped. What they jumped on top of was a fleet of twelve Battlestars and several dozen accompanying warships. The IFF's of a fleet of civilian ships was also present, although the military signals outnumbered the civilian ones. However, upon immediate count Adama noted that some ships were missing.

"Sir, urgent call from the Acropolis for Actual," Dee stated as they settled in.

"Galactica Actual," Adama stated firmly.

"Gods we're glad to see you Admiral," the voice of Commander Aera stated immediately, "We're in rough shape sir."

"What happened Commander?" Adama asked, trying to get a handle on the situation.

"Kobol was attacked sir, six ships matching the ship the Pegasus engaged a little while ago jumped on top of us and engaged without warning. We attempted to engage but our escorts were being picked off one by one and the civilians were unable to escape without escort. The Admiral made the call to retreat and return with reinforcements. However the Admiral's in critical condition and the XO was planetside."

"Who's in command now?"

"You are sir."

Adama narrowed his eyes and looked around. The CIC had ceased all activity as they looked at the Admiral. He took a breath and sighed as he took this in and shook his head at the incredible turn of events.

"Roger that, flag is Galactica," Adama said and then signaled for Dee to broadcast to all ships, "This is Admiral Adama, be advised I'm taking command of the fleet. All ships to report status immediately. Commander, has a runner been dispatched to the Colonies?"

"Two of them were sent by Admiral Balten before he was injured. We also expect that the RSEC managed to get word through Kobol's ring."

"Then reinforcements are likely already on the ground. I want Raptors to prep for reconnaissance, let's see what we're up against."

"We've been scouting them with Raptors Admiral, looks like there's still just six ships in orbit."

"Are you certain Commander?" Adama asked.

"Yes sir, latest reconnaissance is twenty minutes old."

"Twenty minutes Bill," Saul noted, standing next to him, "We've gone in with less intel than that."

"Against Cylons Saul," Adama responded, "These are not Cylons."

"But one Battlestar group can handle these ships at long range, we've got thirteen on them."

"People are dying sir," Dee spoke up.

"More will die if we rush into this without thinking Lieutenant," Adama corrected her, "This may be Kobol but we're all they have. If we rush and engage a force that has already routed Colonial forces we risk a disaster."

_Admiral_, a voice whispered through his mind. It was a voice he recognized. _You must hurry, a greater danger slumbers on Kobol. These new foes do not know of it, but they must not find it._

_Danger?_ Adama thought, _What danger?_

_A beacon from the time of Kobol's exodus. Something that shall lead Humanity to the most dangerous thing we left behind. Knowledge._

"We have to retake Kobol."

"Bill?"

"Dee is right, as long as we delay lives are lost and more of our past is lost forever. Signal the group commanders to come aboard Galactica for briefing on the plan of action."

"Do you have a plan Bill?"

Adama nodded as he pulled up the data on Kobol, zeroing in on the data referring to the atmosphere itself and the gravitational constant of the planet.

"Order Captain Adama and Captain Thrace to the command action center along with Lieutenant Adama."

"What're you up to Admiral?" Saul chuckled.

"We're going to need to coordinate with and support our forces on the ground," Adama declared, "I'll need my best Raptor pilot for that and we'll need to get Vipers past their blockade and put distance between the fleets so we can engage from optimum range."

"How're we gonna do that?"

"I might have an idea, but you won't like it."

Tigh looked down at the file that had been brought up on the command table. He then had a good idea of what Adama was looking to do now.

Sagittaron, SFM Headquarters

"Boss, we've got a problem!"

Tom Zarek looked up from his desk at the fighter who'd just barged in, carrying an old Sagittaron-designed battle rifle **(Imagine the HK G3)**. It was the mainstay of his arsenal, and his hundred and eighty "soldiers" in the SFM's secret underground headquarters deep in the mountains had enough of the weapons and ammo to supply a small army. Also on his head was a pair of military-grade night vision goggles, the same model that equipped his whole headquarters unit.

"What is it?" he asked, mostly unconcerned.

"A CTF convoy just entered the valley, a dozen armored vehicles."

"Wake everyone up, now!" Zarek snapped as he grabbed his more modern personal SMG. **(Imagine UMP-45)**

He rushed out as the carved out and well-lit halls became a hive of activity. Men in a mix of old and new military and hunting camouflage with a variety of ammo vests rushed to their fighting positions. Zarek himself ran up a dirt ramp to an observer station where a concrete slab was over the observer port. There he grabbed an infrared pair of binoculars and shut off the lights and pulled down the cover and pointed his vision towards the vehicles coming down the dirt road a few miles away further down valley. He saw the snub-nosed four-wheeled internal security vehicles with their armored turrets swiveling back and forth. **(Imagine the GKN Simba)**

Zarek picked up a wired phone and spoke into it.

"We've got sixteen CTF Enforcers. Probably at least a company of troops."

"We've got them pinned with the recoilless. If they find us they'll feel it," one of his commanders stated as one of his men rushed into the small observation post with a machine gun built similarly to their rifles **(Imagine the HK21)**.

"Don't fire until they stop."

Zarek waited, looking out into the moonless winter night as snow fell around them, perfect concealment for their positions dug into the rocky caves and mines like pillboxes with no entrances. His men had positioned three long barreled hundred and five millimeter recoilless rifles in their firing positions overlooking the road with plenty of shoulder-fired rockets **(Imagine the RPG-7)**. They were well-entrenched, with pre-sighted fields of fire with well-made, and dangerous weapons. As they came forward, the Counter-Terror Force soldiers moved into the kill zone.

Down below, the CTF troops were well-aware of what they'd be walking into. Intelligence and reconnaissance had been looking for Tom Zarek and his SFM for several years, to no avail. That is until recently. They'd been narrowing in on prior known locations using satellite surveillance, aircraft flights, and boots on the ground scoping out the surrounding country. They'd searched the area before, noting the behavior of the people time and time again, watching their reactions from prepositioned spotters in camouflage positions as their task forces rolled through.

This had been what they'd found to be the most useful. When their units moved in, their spotters saw identical behavior from certain individuals, which was undoubtedly them warning Zarek. They'd acted before, searching the town, finding nothing, time and time again. And never had their force ever had hostile contact.

"All vehicles pull off," their company commander called out, "Dismount and move along this road on the ridge."

The men dismounted out of the side, most of their turrets facing towards the objective, an abandoned mining facility up a road below a shallow ridge in harsh coniferous forest. The black-clothed company had the standard pistol grip magazine-fed carbines and the standard SAW's. They each had their night vision already on and had their winter balaclavas over their faces. Their vests had 'CTF' emblazoned on their backs.

These troops were an elite counter-terrorism task force established to quell the unrest unique to Sagitarron, and had become a fixture in the past few decades. If there was a problem with any of the several terror groups these types of soldiers were called, and they could do the job. Usually they did, and the terrorists had learned to fear and despise them. And this hatred usually led to fierce firefights.

The vehicles and infantry carefully walked up, weapons at the ready. The snow in front of them had not seen any disturbance. The only noises that they heard were the chugging diesels of their own armored vehicles rumbling below them on the terraced dirt road, watching the thin but remarkably rough terrain amongst the coniferous trees. Their night vision picked up nothing as their column reached the mining complex.

"Secure the perimeter."

The men rush forward, revealing themselves, trying to draw fire as the infantry cleared the buildings, checking for any hidden passages. They'd moved up to the edges of the woods, sweeping back and forth. It was an exposed position to be in, and the rank and file troops didn't like it.

"This is wrong, these frakkers are watching us with crosshairs," one of the machine gunners whispered to his fireteam leader kneeling next to him behind a concrete wall looking upwards.

"No kidding, we've got ourselves on a platter for any hostile with a gun," the older sergeant responded.

The men and their compatriots could hear the company commander and their platoon leaders discussing their next moves as other troops tore apart the century-old mining warehouse, toolsheds, and several huts. They found nothing, which was unexpected, as this was where their intel said the locals kept looking towards whenever the authorities showed up.

"Well there's nothing here, let's move up the mountain, see what we can stir up. There's an old illegal mine that's supposed to be up there. We should be able to find something," the company commander said as he pointed up towards the upper reaches, where their foes were waiting.

As soon as he gave that order all hell broke loose. Snaps and cracks greeted the order from above as a storm of heavy machine gun and rifle fire rained down on them. A CTF soldier that had his back turned to the mountain had a bullet pas through his right thigh and collapsed. Another pair of soldiers ran over to their fallen comrade as the engagement began. One of them was shot in the back by a group of tracers and slumped forward limply.

"Frak! Get those vehicles up here!" an officer yelled as he grabbed their radioman, "Get command on the horn! Call for the QRF and air support!"

"Guardian, Hammer-4, we are in heavy contact! Request-," the man said but a bullet passed through his shoulder and he collapsed against his platoon leader.

"Frak! Medic!"

The unit was now involved in its Mad Minute, the first phase of a firefight that would determine whether they won or lost the engagement. And right now, it appeared to the Colonial troops that they were losing. The ripping and popping sounds of rifles, carbines, and machine guns lit up the quiet night. As the battle continued a trio of Enforcers rolled up, their heavy machine guns firing at the flashes on the mountainside where the red tracers were coming from.

"Get the wounded aboard!" their company commander yelled as he fired up at the enemy that was easily laying the fire down from four hundred meters away.

As he said that however, a loud bang and then a whoosh greeted his ears and he knew that this wasn't going to be good. An explosion behind him blew apart the front left wheel of the vehicle and it crashed down onto its nose. Another bang signaled another explosion that hit the vehicle on its right-hand side, penetrating and destroying the engine. A glowing flame started leaking from it as the other vehicles began retreating to cover with the threat of the AT weapons zeroed in on them.

"Shit! Fall back! Get the wounded and fall back!"

The unit began peeling away, laying down suppressive fire as fireteams began sprinting and jumping down the stone terrace. The whole time the force of vehicles below was opening fire, ripping into the granite mountains. But a rocket propelled grenade was launched from a concealed position and landed with an explosion in the middle of a tree, blowing it apart. Another one followed it, flying over the heads of the troops who'd started returning to their retreating vehicles. Bullets followed them down, striking near them all the time, in some cases, hitting one of the CTF troops.

"Get a few more of those vehicles!" Zarek roared into his phone, wanting to see burnt out Colonial vehicles on the road and the CTF running back to their base in much diminished numbers.

His order was acknowledged with the crack of one of their rifles blasting one of the rearmost vehicles in the convoy, blasting a hole in the roof of the vehicle and ignited the fuel and ammo. Cracks from ammunition and the roar of burning fuel sent the crew scrambling out. Another crack blasted a hole in the road next to the one in the lead, and a rocket also struck against the snow bank on the opposite side of the road. Zarek could see the Colonials pulling off the road to get around the obviously destroyed Enforcer. Another burst of machine gun fire raked a trio of troops who fell wounded onto the road as their comrades scooped them as quickly as they could.

"Come on, one more," he mumbled as the Colonial convoy began falling back.

To his surprise he saw a vehicle get stuck on the snow bank, wedged on the shoulder-guard. This was the opportunity that some of his rocketeers were waiting for. Two rockets landed near the vehicle, and a third hit home on the center of the nose and blew a hole through the engine block and he could see the crew and passengers start to evacuate from the burning vehicle, and that left three of the vehicles burning in the night, illuminating the entire valley.

"Alright! We got 'em!" the machine gunner next to Zarek whooped, triumphant in their victory over this raiding force.

"It's not over," Zarek declared, lifting the phone to his ear, "Did we film that?"

"We had a camera going," one of the positions called out.

"Excellent, get some cameras down and photograph and film everything. This is big," Zarek ordered, "And get messengers out to our other cells, order them to hit some soft federal targets, CTF, politicians, non-Sagittaron companies, everything."

"Wanna start bringing in our other units?"

"Yeah, the feds will want to finish us in a very public manner. Best give them a show."

"The weather's on our side," his second in command responded, "Should keep their air power out of the equation for a little while."

"I know," Zarek declared, and started walking out of the observation post.

He walked past jubilant militiamen getting ready for battle, knowing that they'd be looking at a large battle in the coming days. There was going to be a lot to do in the coming days.

Caprica, Caprica City

"So far your treatments have been going as well as can be predicted Ms. Roslin," the doctor said on the veranda of the hospital that Roslin had been secretly going to for treatment, "We'll have to work on keeping your regular treatments on a strict schedule but there's no reason we can assume that things won't go badly."

"Doctor, you know how difficult that is going to be with my position," Laura said with a smile, "As Secretary of Education during Colonial Day I'm going to be very, very busy."

"I know, I know, but…I still must insist that you keep to your treatment schedule and you keep your stress levels down and get plenty of rest."

"Looks like that'll be rather difficult," Laura said sadly.

"If it will be that difficult…as a doctor I would recommend that you reconsider resigning from your position to focus on your treatment. Cancer…doesn't care about your title."

"No, that was made abundantly clear when I was first diagnosed," she responded coldly, but softened up, "I'll have to discuss this after Colonial Day."

"Of course. Well, as usual, your secret will continue to be kept here Madam Secretary."

"Thank you Doctor," she responded, "Good day."

Laura shook his hand with a warm smile and walked down the stairs to where she saw Billy waiting for her in the greeting room of the ultra-modern hospital complex. She was pleased to see it was him rather than one of her many aides whose trustworthiness was rather questionable.

"Thank you for waiting Billy," she said walking up to him.

"Of course ma'am," the young man replied.

"Right then, shall we?" Laura said as she looked out to see the warmth of the Caprica spring sun where her executive car was waiting with a bodyguard standing facing outwards.

"The schedule for today involves…" Billy began as he held the door open and opened up his planner, "A meeting with the commanding officer of the troops that will be involved in the parade here in Caprica City, a rehearsal with the Caprica Choice Youth Choir, and a town hall at the University of Athena with the academics."

As she slid into her seat she sighed, "Military, I've never really seen the need for me to be involved with them."

"They will have their own exhibition before the parade, which itself is education in its own way," Billy replied after closing the door.

"It's propaganda, they showcase their toys so often I don't know anyone who can't name anything they bring."

"Well, it is tradition I suppose," Billy replied.

"Do you have a copy of the parade plan?" she asked.

"Of course," Billy quickly said as he dug in his briefcase and extracted the stapled papers.

"Let's see, I'm still on the fence about the order that we're placing the floats and the bands," she mumbled.

"Madam Secretary," the bodyguard in the front passenger seat spoke up, "Sorry to interrupt ma'am, you have a call from the President."

"Of course," she sighed, "Sorry Billy," Roslin quickly picked up the built-in specially built-in phone for secure communications which always came from the President and were always very important, "Roslin."

"Laura, this…might not necessarily concern your department, but I figured you'd want to know this," the voice of President Adar said, taking a sigh like he always did when bad news was about to be shared, "Kobol just reported it was under attack. We don't know the specifics, but I know some personal friends on the planet."

"Will there be a statement or any change to Colonial Day?"

"Nothing yet, we're still getting information from the RSEC. Once we know everything, we'll have the military come out with a statement. Confidence in the military is…at an all-time high. So we should see a much lessened amount of negative reaction."

"Okay, is that all?"

"For now yes, keep your phone on, we'll share information as we get it."

Roslin hung up the phone, breathing hard through her nostrils as she noticed Billy sitting silently.

"It's alright Billy, it's none of our concern."

"Is it bad?"

"I don't know. I'm just a teacher after all…"

**Well, that one was a long-time coming with Roslin and Zarek returning to the fold. Sorry about forgetting about them guys. I'm really having fun with this story and I just couldn't wait to get this one finished and out for everyone to read. So as usual, hope you all enjoyed it.**

**Next Chapter Preview: Does Earth fight? And what's Adama's plan?**


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Location: Terra Nova, Stargate Command

Date: February 17, 2025

Time: 0500

"Unscheduled offworld activation."

General Landry was in the command room almost immediately upon that particular statement. It had become muscle memory by now. He never knew what might be on the other side of that wormhole to who knows where. So he was right on top of the command center.

"What do we got?" he asked immediately as he surveyed the stargate and saw the security teams in their positions.

The gate activated and the iris closed immediately and Landry looked at the address.

"SG-1 sir," the NCO said calmly, relief in the young sergeant's voice, "Receiving IDC. Confirmed."

God I miss Walter, Landry thought sourly. His senior NCO back on Earth had remained there, his retirement coming up pretty soon and he was needed to train new personnel for the SGC's normal operational. So Landry and Terra Nova's main SGC were left to younger personnel.

"Open the iris."

The strong iris opened up and slid back into the reinforced wall that the gate was built into. Upon the opening of the iris Landry saw the form of several members of SG-1 come through, one of them came in right behind the others and rushed in. He could recognize her quickly, Brenda Jackson. She plowed through everyone and rushed in, which was a sign that she wanted to speak with him directly.

"Looks like she wants to debrief," Landry sighed as the civilian team leader rushed into the command center, "Yes Miss Jackson?"

"Briefing room sir. It's important," she gasped out, brushing some wet hair from her face. Her uniform was shiny with water from where they'd come from. Her face was also flushed somewhat from rush up the stairs.

At that moment O'Neill walked in as well, soaked to the bone. He wasn't at all flustered or as urgent as her, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that alluded to what she had on her mind.

"It is urgent sir," the man said with a nod.

"Let's go," Landry said, and quickly led the way into the briefing room that off the main command center, down small hall, and into a sealed door. They both walked in, and when the door shut Brenda instantly spoke up.

"Sir we met the Colonials," she said immediately.

"More like found each other. We had a bit of a spat sir, one of our personnel was suspicious and went on a quick scouting move," O'Neill explained, "She got caught and the Colonials explained they didn't know what to do so they went with what they felt was the safer bet for their own security and kept her with them."

"Not exactly a good start to your meeting was it?" Landry replied.

"No sir, then we caught half of their team a bit later and freed our own," O'Neill chuckled, "So we cut even I suppose."

"Then a group I was leading to the meeting at the palace on the planet was jumped by the rest of the Colonial team," Brenda then unwillingly shared, "Myself and Dr. Walt were caught. Our military escort managed to evade."

"They set you up?" Landry asked.

"No they'd heard we'd taken their team prisoner after a bit of a standoff that they blinked first on," O'Neill relayed, "well that's what they said anyway. Frankly I'm torn on whether I believe them or not."

"Because that's what you'd do Jack?" Landry asked with a smile.

"Pretty much, the impression I got was that they were trying very hard to avoid starting a war sir," O'Neill responded honestly, "The most they did as far as aggression was use something akin to a taser."

"And it had no effect from what Major Blanton told us," Brenda added, "So we had everything pretty much handled."

"And we…met something, or someone we didn't really expect," O'Neill worded, "You wanna give him the news?"

"Master Bra'tac intervened General. Kind of set up the meeting we had later. And it turned out pretty well overall."

"Except for you being a hostage?" O'Neill reminded her.

"I was fine!" Brenda snapped back, "Anyway, something else happened. As we wrapped up for a while someone else joined, a…" she trailed off, looking at Jack to be sure she wasn't dreaming, "A Furling sir."

"I'm sorry did you just say Furling?"

"One of the great races yes sir. He seemed to have been watching the Colonials, they'd met before and he was watching them operate. Apparently the Colonials have already met and established some sort of report with them."

"Fantastic, did you manage to ascertain if they'll come meet us?" Landry asked.

"He was pretty mum on that topic, his interest was with the Colonials. We can only tell you they're huge, like Bigfoot type size and look. And they're telepathic."

"Fantastic, just what we need, a great race taking sides it seems."

"They never treated me or Dr. Walt in an aggressive manner. They wanted to talk, and talk we did."

"About what?"

"About trying to normalize relations General," Brenda replied, "And there's a potential jackpot situation for doing just that right now. Kobol is under attack and they need help. Took some convincing but the Colonials admitted it."

"Here we go…" O'Neill grumbled, "Sir, she's wanting to take SG-1 to Kobol to assist their defense in the name of improving relations with the Colonials and safeguarding Ancient technology from falling into hostile hands."

"Kobol?" Landry asked for clarification, "I knew it. I knew that the decision to withdraw our listening and sensor patrols was the wrong decision. Damned IOA."

"We did that as a method of respecting their space to prevent conflict so they can settle down while we were still establishing Terra Nova as a colony. It was…a mistake I admit, but it did its job," Brenda replied.

"I'll take that up with Jack," Landry nodded, "For now, we have to decide whether or not we will actually send you and what you'll do if we send you."

"Stay out of combat sir. I recommend that we take a copy of Atlantis' operating system and activate their shields to keep Olympus safe and out of the wrong hands," O'Neill suggested, "And those hands is another piece of info they themselves didn't know."

"That's what I'd say as well General," Brenda nodded, "They've only just begun scratching the surface of what's out there. So they'll be in the dark about a lot of things for quite a while."

"They've more than likely got enough troops on the ground we won't have to put boots on the ground in numbers. But I'd like to have another SG team with us for security."

"I'll get SG-36 equipped immediately, they're new but have high combat scores."

"SG-36…Mexican unit?"

"Fresh from training and graduation back home. This'll be their first mission, if you guys go."

"So why aren't we for sure going? Seems simple enough, we're going to protect an Ancient City Ship from someone attacking the Colonials, who obviously want to hit the reset button with us," Brenda scoffed.

"Because I'm sending you to a combat zone without orbital support," Landry snapped, pointing a knowing finger at the young blonde, "We've seen this scenario played out too many times for too many bad endings."

"What kind of support are you thinking?"

"I'd like to have a carrier battle group, if not a Battle Carrier, the Colonials seem to have a healthy fear of them."

"And the Fleet has to approve the deployment of anything larger than a battleship," O'Neill grumbled, "I can't believe I'm saying this but I wish we were the small efficient unit we were back in the day."

"There's a reason for everything Colonel," Brenda reminded him, well aware of the inherent needs of bureaucracy.

"Sure there is."

"That's enough of that, if you'll excuse me, I've got a call to make," Landry interrupted the two of them. He stood up from the table he'd been leaning on and walked out with them behind him, "In the meantime, prepare for a new deployment to Kobol, choose the people you want to take, and get outfitted in the appropriate gear."

O'Neill saluted and keyed his radio, "Head back to the locker room, grab your temperate gear and exchanging out your weapons, not time for cleaning and inspecting."

"Roger that sir," Major Blanton responded.

The two of them branched off to a new hall as Landry parted ways with the two of them as he entered his office and picked up the phone and dialed up General O'Neill's phone, unsure of how this would be received. The phone rang once before the man he wanted to speak to picked up.

"O'Neill."

"Jack, Hank," Landry greeted him, "We've got a situation. SG-1 just got back early with an important bit of news."

"Did that civilian team get into trouble?"

"No such luck," Landry chuckled, "Worse, we've got another situation with the Colonials. No we didn't get nasty and things worked out in the end."

"So…what's the news?"

"They want to hit the reset button," Landry informed him, "But when they were about to relay the news to their command they got an emergency recall order. Kobol's under attack and they begrudgingly asked for help."

"Help? What kind of help?"

"They weren't specific or didn't know themselves, I'd assume they'll need some advising on what they're up against. But O'Neill and Jackson seemed to agree that the city ship needed to be protected, seeing as we neutered the city's operating systems the Colonials won't be able to activate the shields and guard it."

"Seems a bit of a risk for us to assume they can handle the situation. After all, they're not up to par tech-wise compared to what we know is out there."

"I've got the agreement of SG-1 to send them to protect the city with SG-36 as backup. But I'm not sending them without orbital support."

"So that's why you called me, you want permission to call in the fleet."

"That's right," Landry replied, "We've seen too many missions go south because of no air support."

"Alright, I'll activate the _Shokaku_ Battle Group, they're next on the list on my 'Make sure all nations get action' list," General O'Neill responded, "Go ahead and deploy your teams Hank, time's not on our side."

"Roger that," Landry nodded, "Might pass the word to the ships to keep their distance until we've established that the Colonials know our forces are friendlies."

"I'll give the order," O'Neill immediately replied, knowing that the idea was for the best. Last thing they needed to do was have a three-way battle on accident, "And Hank I want you to have a QRF ready to deploy in the event things go south on that rock. I'm allowing you access the 1st IRB, they're not technically activated but our latest reviews have them at a state of readiness on par with traditional standards."

"They'll need to be on alert."

"They will. Get going General."

"Oh Jack, one last thing, SG-1 made contact with the Furlings," Landry informed him, saving the best for last, "I haven't gotten an opportunity to formally brief them but it looks like Bigfoot is a Furling and they have a keen interest in the Colonials."

"Are you sure about that?" O'Neill asked after a few moments.

"They seemed pretty sure, we'll get more information after the mission is accomplished."

"Very well, I'll have to keep my ears open now. Good luck Hank."

The phone went dead as General O'Neill hung up and Landry hung up himself and walked over to the central command center which his office was situated between, and went to the man in charge of the facility comms.

"Get SG/S-36 ready for deployment," Landry ordered, "Full temperate gear."

"Yes sir," the sergeant replied and pulled up the digital relay system that passed the word to SG-36's barracks and ready room before calling it out verbally, "SG/S-36, report to ready room for immediate deployment."

Back in SG-1's own ready room, the military contingent was getting their gear switched out, taking off their tropical green camouflage and putting on another set of armor and uniforms that had more in common with the US Army's Woodland ACU pattern. They were also exchanging their weapons with spares that they had readily available. The civilian portion of the team was also changing, but only select members of the team were being chosen.

Brenda knew that her biologist and geologist had no place in the coming mission, and told them to sit it out. This did not sit well with them, but they had no other choice. So she'd chosen her two tech experts, Doctors Underwood and Ellis, her two medical doctors, Lawson and Tew, and for the sake of negotiations and translation assistance she'd reluctantly chosen Dr. Walt.

These individuals were readying themselves in the other locker room until Major Blanton walked in fully geared up.

"Major?" Brenda asked, surprised at the sudden appearance.

"Colonel said to hand these out," Blanton replied, slinging a pair of metal cases onto the table in the middle of the locker room.

The boxes had locks on them, and Blanton unlocked it quickly and opened up the first case, revealing a line of P90 Personal Defense Weapons. These weapons were still as reliable and favored as any for the basic use by civilians and non-combat personnel in the event they would need them. Every single member of an SG Team needed to know how to use one of these weapons to even be allowed to go through the gate. They were only handed out for higher risk missions, at the decision of the team leaders and General Landry himself.

"This really necessary?" Brenda sighed, more as her own habit of wanting to have a say.

"Colonel's orders," Blanton said as he picked one up, pulling the action back and did a quick inspection before pulling the trigger to make sure the weapon was operating.

"Fine," Brenda grumbled, taking the P90 as Blanton opened the other case and counted out eight magazines and motioned for her to take them.

Unhappy but accepting the need to take the weapon she reached into her locker and grabbed a thigh-mounted dual magazine pouch that she clipped around her left thigh and placed two of the magazines in there and four more in her vest and took the two spares and placed them in her backpack. She didn't like having to carry the P90, giving the impression she was ready and looking for a fight. That was not what she wanted to do, her objective was to be a diplomat, meeting and negotiating a diplomatic relationship with whoever they met through the Stargate.

Blanton continued, passing out the other P90's and ammunition. Once he was done he closed the boxes and announced to them.

"When you're geared up draw yourselves some new pistols and extra forty-five caliber magazines," Blanton instructed firmly, "This is not an exploration mission this is a now a combat we're going into. If things go well you won't have to use those. But be ready to use them either way."

"Got it," Ruby rolled her eyes, pulling on her Cal Tech bucket hat once she'd clipped her P90 into place.

"No…" Blanton corrected, tapping her head, "Helmet."

"So…if we do get into a fight, you gonna tell us some quick fight moves?" Dr. Underwood asked, "Y'know some…" he trailed and assumed a karate fighting stance.

Blanton pulled out an unloaded P90 and had it aimed at Underwood who yelped in surprise and drew back.

"Yeah, shoot them," the big man growled, tossing the weapon into Underwood's arms and addressed all of the civilians present, "This ain't a movie, it's not a book. This is real, the Colonials may be behind us technologically but they are every bit as deadly with their hands and knives as any of us. Do not screw around with that Karate Kid bullshit! If someone comes at you with sinister intent, Colonial or otherwise, you take your weapon, aim it at them, and pull the trigger before they do the same. We'll do our best to protect you, but the time may come when you may have to kill someone, settle that fact with yourselves now. There won't be a moment to do that in a fight."

It was blunt, but it was a reality check that they all needed to have thrown in their faces. The best motivator was fear in such situations, fear keeps someone sharp, heightens their awareness, and keeps them alive. Instilling that fear was just what was needed before going into very real danger. There was no way the deadly seriousness of the situation could be explained. With that done Blanton walked out to where O'Neill was standing against the wall. He nodded to his commanding officer who nodded in return now that their message was delivered.

"Instruct the team to grab a quick bite from the MRE's we've got in the go-box in the lounge, SG-36 is on its way. Fill them in when they get here," O'Neill ordered.

"Yes sir," Blanton saluted, getting another in return from O'Neill who entered the locker room after Blanton left.

There he saw the civilian team just about ready, with everyone checking their equipment and tightening and rechecking their uniforms and backpacks for anything that they might have missed. He saw Brenda speaking with Dr. Lawson and Dr. Tew, who filed out of the room to their lab to get their medical bags after O'Neill entered, giving quick greetings to him. Brenda then went and was about to give out another set of instructions to Dr. Underwood and Dr. Ellis.

"Jackson," Jack called out, motioning for her to come over to him before she could finish what she said.

"Just make sure you have at least two separate copies of the operating systems for the city," she finished in a condensed form as she walked over, "Another lecture on how I might have to gouge out an opponent's eyes or something like that?"

As she and O'Neill started talking the other civilians filed out to grab the rest of their gear and download whatever data they needed for their datapads tucked in a protected cubby on the back of their armor between the plate and their backpacks.

O'Neill smirked slightly, "No, not this time. Just making sure that you understand the way things will work once we get to Kobol as far as what you can say and do. I'm in charge, plain and simple. What I say goes, if something happens to me it's SG-36's commander, then Blanton, so on and so on."

"I get it," Brenda groaned, rolling her eyes, "Don't go anywhere without permission, don't do anything without permission."

"Listen, I know you don't like me Jackson, I know that the idea of the military being the overall authority of Stargate Command does not appeal to you. But you need to get one thing straight today," O'Neill whispered, not wanting the others to hear, "You have to listen to us out there. I cannot emphasize that enough. It might not be as nice or polite as you're used to back in D.C. or with the respect you feel you are afforded. But you have to do it immediately and without question."

"Sounds like we've had this conversation before," Brenda smirked crossing her arms over her chest.

O'Neill growled and grabbed her by her vest and slammed her against the locker six inches behind her, catching Brenda entirely off-guard.

"This is no longer an academic exercise Brenda! There's no innocent little scientific objectives where we're going now. The people on the other side of that gate, whoever they are, _will kill you_," Jack snapped, practically nose-to-nose. He could see the surprise and fear in her eyes, despite her best efforts to repress it and could hear her breathing fast in response, "I know. I've seen what's out there and I need to know that you understand that."

Brenda nodded quickly, more in reflex than actually knowing and with that Jack let go and she regained some measure of composure and brushed her some hair from her face.

"I need to hear you say it, that you'll do what you're told out there."

"I'll…follow orders," Brenda stuttered, unsure of how to word it.

"And you'll do them when?"

"Immediately," she shook her head, put back by the sudden deadly seriousness that O'Neill was exhibiting.

"Alright, grab an MRE, get some food in you, it might be a while before we get another chance to."

EDFS _Challenger_, on Patrol near Lucia

"Sir, coming out of hyperspace," Ellis's navigator called out.

"Very well, get scanners online, let's take a quick peak and see what the Lucians are up to," the man ordered, perfectly content with the standard patrol.

Earth hadn't been worrying too much about the Lucians lately, the Jaffa had been keeping them from causing trouble, ridding the trade lanes of Lucian-backed pirates and kassa fields across their sphere. This limited and defanged the Lucians after the disaster they'd met at the hands of Earth's first Battle Carrier, the Enterprise and forced them into a completely docile state that they feared leaving, else feel the wrath of Earth's fleet.

So with the assurance of the Jaffa and the incessant need to keep the bulk of Earth's experienced fleet close to home during the Terra Nova colonization and training of new ship crews the Lucians had been allowed to fester in their own home planet. But with Challenger's proximity to the planet it had been decided to take a peak real fast.

As the ship came out of hyperspace along with its large battle group the scanners began picking up something that startled the crew on the sensors. Ships and wreckage numbering in the thousands.

"Sir, you may want to take a look at this," the officer overseeing the scans called out.

"What do we got?" Ellis asked, leaning down to take a look, and saw the blobs of ships around the planet, some of what he was seeing not truly registering, "The hell?"

"My thoughts exactly sir, none of these ships match our records, some are enormous, eighteen kilometers on at least five of them," his sensor chief agreed.

"And thousands of others and a huge debris field getting trimmed down pretty rapidly. Remnants from a battle sir? I didn't think the Lucians had that many ships," another senior NCO piped up.

"They don't. Or, didn't."

"Whoever these guys are they seem to have set up shop, best leave them be for now sir, at least until we can gain more intel on them," the NCO nodded.

"Wanna call this in boss?"

"That's what I plan on doing, get me headquarters," Ellis ordered, and looked back at the astounding scale of the fleet over Lucia, "We take our eyes off you guys for a little bit and look what happens."

EDF Fleet Massing Point, Terra Nova

The Defense Force task force of a single _Halsey_ Class Carrier, the _Shokaku_, was prepared to depart. In its mass of ships were two BB-305's, the _Kongo_ and _Hiei_, with six BC-304's escorting the force. This was an all-Japanese fleet, the only one in the EDF that was active. It was a fully capable task force, with enough firepower for it handle itself from any threat that could be thrown against it by what Earth knew was potentially waiting out there.

Once the fleet was in formation it broke away from its position alongside the titanic shadows of the Earth Battle Carriers orbiting in column formation with battleships, carriers, battlecruisers, and destroyers massed in similar line formations around them. They formed large grids of warships of similar classes. Formations of Banshees patrolled the quiet of space around them, keeping sharp eyes on anything suspicious that would dare venture near the deadly assembly over Terra Nova.

After clearing the area, the _Shokaku_ led her fleet into hyperspace, jumping away to take up position near the planet Kobol, well aware they were on their way to a fight.

**And so I've decided, Earth shall fight. Let's see what happens next shall we?**

**Also, something I keep forgetting, guest reviewers, I know you guys leave fantastic and well-thought out reviews, but sometimes I really want to respond to you immediately and address your concerns. But I can't do that with a guest review. If you want questions answered please sign into or create an account on the site so I can respond and relieve your worries or answer whatever questions I can. It is really worth your time, believe me, to create an account, you can follow as many stories as you can read and get updates immediately upon their authors posting new chapters.**

**I love getting feedback from you guys and those of you who are concerned or have reservations are my favorites, because I love being challenged to do better, it's a real driving force behind my writing. So let's see if I can keep improving.**

**Next Chapter Preview: Earth returns to Kobol, and so does an Adama.**


	20. Chapter 19

**I was really excited about this one and wanted to get it done.**

**Also I've decided to start changing a few names for the Colonials, I was rereading and wasn't pleased with what I'd named some of them. So for now here's the new names. I'll come up with more suiting names for more Colonial characters as we along.**

**Dr. Dylan Cruzii – Tech Expert **

**Dr. Betty Wimmera – Tech Assistant**

**Dr. Carl Deckero – Medical Expert**

**As a final note, the weapon to visualize for the Colonial PDW the civilians have is based on the Magpul PDW. Seemed like a good match for the Colonials' weapon styles.**

Chapter 19

Location: Kobol, RSEC Home Base

Date: February 17, 2025

Time: 0830

The unit came out of the ring into the cold of the familiar environment of Kobol. What wasn't familiar was the large concrete cover that was built over the ring with hesco barriers and sandbag barriers. They hadn't been here since they'd left and their first impression was one of things not being in good shape. Colonel Black led the way in at the head of two other Recon Teams and saw that the building that was built within the twenty meter by ten meter concrete box was different, it was more permanent and was now covered with sandbags.

It was also where a group of wounded Colonial troops on stretchers or leaning against the walls with red bandages on every part of their bodies. They were a sad sight, and was pretty humbling for the part of the civilian team that had been ordered to come with them. Colonel Black had selected his two tech specialists, Dr. Cruzii and his assistant Dr. Wimmera, and his two medical specialists as well, Dr. Deckero and Dr. Hall. And of course Agent Fraser had tagged along, not wanting his team to go without him, and another good gun was going to be needed.

They hadn't returned without weapons, Colonel Black had rushed them to the armory instantly upon returning to Choros and instructed them on a compact bullpup PDW. So they were now armed, if somewhat bregrudgingly. They'd refitted with the all-black of the RSEC's recon teams and went through with the military escorts of Recon Teams Six and Twelve.

"Let's get out of the way," Black yelled, waving his team to get out of the way of the impending medical evacuation that was ready to go.

The forty-five Colonial personnel rushed out, running out and through the camouflage nets draped over the exits of the ring's protective bunker and another layer hanging from metal posts to double up the concealment. Here they could see the muddy mess that was the base of operations with troops and support personnel moving back and forth. A battery of howitzers was being towed passed them as they crossed the muddy mess on their way to where some MP's were gesturing them come over.

"Colonel," one of the MP's greeted him, saluting quickly, "The Admiral's over at the headquarters building waiting for you sir."

"If the ring starts activating call me, we might be expecting some help," Black replied as the others rushed past to clear the road.

"Roger that sir," the MP nodded and Black walked past him, and opened the door of the large headquarters building that was nearby with a box of hesco barriers and camouflage nets covering the the two-story building with a few antennae poking through the nets.

"Colonel! Agent Fraser!" the voice of Admiral Queen greeted him immediately, and Black walked over, snapping a quick salute, "Glad you showed up, any word on if Earth will show?"

"Hard to tell sir," Black replied, leaning against a wall that had the largest map of the area with friendly positions and enemy positions marked in varying symbols, many meaning 'destroyed', "What's the situation?"

"We've got elements of three divisions remaining intact and scraps and stragglers from smaller independent units pushing out of their bases. So far the enemy's ground forces aren't even up to the fight we're bringing to bear," Queen informed him, "We've got the area secured around the Tomb and Olympus. Hostile air cover has been forced to stay clear thanks to our anti-aircraft curtains, but…we've still got those ships hovering over our heads and at least a thousand of people still unaccounted for."

"Any prisoners or intel been gathered on what we're facing?" Fraser asked.

"That's one thing we're starting to piece together," Queen nodded, "We've taken a few prisoners and have taken some weapons and equipment. It matches exactly what those Commandoes found on those pirates a while ago when a few civilian ships went missing."

"A retaliatory strike then sir?" Black tried surmising.

"Not sure, their methods and motivations haven't matched our predictions from what we ascertained from Fleet Intelligence's interrogation. They should have just attacked, taken what they wanted, and lit out. This is not the action of a pirate band."

"Well," Black smiled, "Let's make them sorry they stayed."

"That's what I wanted to hear Colonel," Queen stated, "You and your team will be flown to Olympus on the few Raptors we've managed to get through the ring and active. Once there-," he started before the comm on his chest crackled.

"Sir the ring's activating!"

"Scheduled?" Fraser asked.

"Is it Choros?" Queen asked.

"Negative Admiral."

"Please let that be Earth," Fraser hopefully whispered to himself, "Permission to greet them sir?"

"Not without me Agent," the Admiral responded, shuffling out of the door with Colonel Black right beside him, "Make a hole!"

The three rushed into the ring building and saw that the seventh chevron was just lighting up and locking into place. The medical evacuation had to be stopped, and a squad of troops in full gear rushed in with rifles aimed at the ring. Some medics were trying to get the wounded on stretchers out of the way just as the ring activated and the splash whooshed out and lit up the room in the wavy white light.

"Hold fire!" Queen snapped at them all, knowing that an Earth team might be walking through at any moment.

The troops shifted uneasily as they waited and Colonel Black clicked his carbine's safety to off just in case. But their worries were alleviated as a little wheeled rover came through, and the symbol of Earth on the nose of the vehicle let everyone know that their visitors were not hostile, or so they hoped. A pair of troops carefully inched towards the vehicle with assault rifles ready to open fire.

"Stand down, back away!" Queen yelled out to the two men, who looked back and forth between each other, unwillingly stepping back and lowering their weapons to a forty-five degree angle.

The camera on the MALP swiveled back and forth, and the Colonials uneasily watched, and some of them hoped that the next thing to come through would be Earth's soldiers. A few moments passed before something happened, and those who had been hoping that it would be Earth found themselves sighing and relief.

The first thing to come through was a uniformed and armored Earth soldier with an assault rifle in hand and a helmet on his head with a HUD over his eyes. The standard lower portion of the helmet that contained a filter was absent allowing them to see the man's face. Colonel Black recognized him immediately as he walked down the stone steps of ring's base as more Earth troops followed him through, similarly uniformed and equipped with a green, black, and brownish digital pattern.

The Colonial troops murmured and looked back and forth among themselves, unsure of what to think of this. They hadn't known Earth was going to be on their way to assist them.

"Colonel O'Neill," Black stated firmly, stepping forward as the Earth unit walked in and spread out, their weapons at the same readiness as the Colonial troops in the building with them.

"Colonel Black," O'Neill greeted the man, looking around at the concrete cover with his hands clasped over the stock of his rifle, "Like what you've done with the place."

"It does the job," Black smirked, holding out a hand that Colonel O'Neill looked at and shook, shaking the hand firmly, "Admiral, may I introduce Colonel O'Neill, commanding officer of Earth's SG-1."

Admiral Queen stepped forward, noting how ragged and worn he looked at the moment but paid it no mind.

"Admiral," O'Neill said and offered a salute, "Heard you guys had a problem."

"That we do," Queen nodded, returning the salute.

Stepping forward was another individual that was a surprise.

"Miss Jackson," Fraser greeted, "I'm surprised you came."

"I'm not going to let my civilian team members go anywhere without me," the young blonde stated firmly, "Admiral, Brenda Jackson."

"Jackson, related to either of the Jacksons we met when our people first met?"

"My father is Senator Jackson," she said, "I joined as a civilian team leader after he was injured."

"I'm sorry for your father," Admiral Queen responded, "The head diplomat we've determined was at fault has been stripped of his title and has been trashed by most all of our media outlets and government agencies."

"Thank you Admiral, but we're here for another reason, improving relations will…"she said, looking at O'Neill.

"Have to wait once the current threat is dealt with."

"Very well," Queen stated, "Since you're here to help what have you come to do exactly?"

"Protect Olympus, it's important to us just as it is to you," Brenda stated, "It's in Earth's best interest that that technology does not fall into hostile hands."

"We can get you there with Raptors," Black nodded, "We've got the immediate airspace secured so we can stay low and get to the city quickly. Our ground routes are still unsecure, terrain that way is too dense and rough for a road we can go quickly on."

"Best get you and your team moving then Colonel, we've got twelve Raptors standing by, should be enough to get you and our own teams to the city quickly and reasonably safely," Admiral Queen agreed, showing them the way with an arm movement.

"Sounds good Admiral," O'Neill nodded, "We've brought our own equipment for what we plan on doing to help bolster Olympus' defenses so we'll just need to hop on over."

"That's simple enough, alright. Colonel Black, Agent Fraser, you'll be the go-between for the Earth team, you seem to have some familiarity with one another, in the meantime, protect Olympus at all costs. Looks like we're in the same frakked up boat," Admiral Queen ordered, noting the irony in the back of his mind.

_A few years ago we were about to go to war, now we're standing side-by-side on the very ground we spilled one another's blood_, he thought to himself, amazed at the difference some time and a common enemy makes.

Raptor-2-7

"This'll be different," Kelsey Adama sighed as she checked her Raptor's systems one last time as her ECO and the four Marines in the back of her Raptor readied themselves.

"We've got this," Helo laughed, "I've done these kinds jumps before. So far so good."

"According to the simulators!" Kelsey replied, "And none under fire."

"And none under fire," Helo agreed reluctantly, "We'll be fine Lightbulb. Just keep this tub from going down in flames."

"I've done this once, shouldn't be too hard at all to do this again."

"Alright not instilling confidence back here eltee!" one of the Marines called out.

"Knock it off, she's done this before, I trust her," the Marine officer in charge of the group snapped.

Kelsey frowned back at the four Marines waiting for the possibility of having to swing into action if their bird went down. Commanding them was a familiar face for Kelsey, Lieutenant David Krytos, the same Lieutenant who she'd taken to the planet Frencalis and helped retrieved the crystal her brother had somehow knew was there. For some time she'd gotten hints that he may or may not have been interested until the Galactica's crew had been broken up when they'd returned.

Unfortunately they hadn't really gotten any further than the more familiar relationship that such a mission gave them. The occasional smile and nod from one another had gotten them nowhere serious, but Kelsey was hopeful this cruise would be the one. Being the 'Admiral's Daughter' tended to do the opposite however. But it got her the fun jobs, like this one.

"Raptor-Two-Seven," the comms lit up, "You are cleared for jump."

"Here we go!" Kelsey said, and set the FTL, "Roger that Galactica. We're on the way."

"FTL ready to go! Coordinates in place," Helo called out, and locked into the co-pilot seat, "We're ready."

"Ready back here!" Lieutenant Krytos said as he signaled with a thumbs-up.

"Let's go," Kelsey grinned, hitting the FTL command.

Immediately she snapped her hands back to her controls, ready to pull back hard to regain control. It was exactly what was needed because the FTL activated, a flash of white light and then the Raptor began shaking and an orange flame began licking at the cockpit canopy. The Raptor had done its job, jumping right into the atmosphere of Kobol as planned.

"We're in the atmosphere! Altitude forty-thousand feet and dropping!" Helo called out.

"I got it!" she said pulling back on the controls hard and hitting the Raptor's thrusters to max to regain control.

The Raptor bucked and rattled as she wrestled with the controls, trying hard to keep her Raptor from cratering. G-Forces pinned everyone into their seats, and the Marines just prayed that they'd be alright. The two pilots pulled on their sticks, knowing the danger that they were both in if they didn't get their bird under control. Finally, after a few moments the orange flames ceased and the ride smoothed out.

"Radio in, I don't want those guys blasting us out of the sky Helo," Kelsey yelled.

"Any station this net, any station this net, this is Raptor-Two-Seven Galactica how copy over?" Helo said into the radio, "Hope there's someone still around to hear us."

"Raptor-Two-Seven Galactica Break! You've got bandits swinging in on your tail!" the radio snapped back at them immediately.

"Helo?!" Kelsey asked.

"Frak! We've got three bogeys diving on us!"

"Raptor you are over hostile territory steer to one-four-zero and we can cover you with groundfire!" the same person on the radio instructed them.

"Roger that," Kelsey said in response, yanking the controls back, and steered towards the mountains, diving down to the deck.

As she did that orange and light blue dots came upwards at her. They missed badly, their users far too inaccurate to hit the Raptor, but that was not a chance that they wanted to take.

"Hostile groundfire!" Helo declared, "Pull up, stay out of range."

"Don't tell the obvious!" Kelsey snapped, "Where's those hostiles?"

Two orange globs of plasma zipped in front and to the side of the cockpit and answered her question.

"Want me to tell you now?"

"Frak you Helo!"

Kelsey yanked hard on the stick and pedaled her right foot and took the Raptor into a climbing barrel roll, trying to get the enemy fighters to overshoot. The ploy worked, and Helo paused a moment as he examined the fling wing fighters that had just shot out from under them as Kelsey realigned and dove on them, her Viper pilot's instincts kicking in.

"Firing missiles!" Helo roared, knowing that at this range they couldn't possibly miss.

Two Archers flew from the wings and zipped right at the Death Gliders. But both zeroed in one fighter, blowing it apart in the middle and sent two flaming wings twirling into the forest below.

"Guns!" Kelsey commanded, "Quick!"

"Firing!" Helo snapped.

But before he did something else happened, a stream of tracers and clouds of black ack-ack erupted in front of them. The bursts were precisely aimed at the enemy fighters which got shredded almost immediately. Kelsey pulled up, avoiding any shrapnel or debris as streams of black smoke trailed the wreckage to the ground and disappeared into the thick wet canopy. She could now see the boxy camouflaged positions where she knew the ground fire had to have come from.

Large steel turrets around DRADIS guided CIWS guns, the same as those used on the Battlestars, were stationed on the hilltops before her. The DRADIS dishes and fire control stations also accompanies the weapons placements as SAM batteries also showed up on her HUD now, their upright pillars awaiting an excuse to launch. The Raptor flew over these into friendly territory, where she saw the base she'd been told to head towards.

The expanse was quite large, built on terraces dug into the sides of the mountain with hesco barriers and concrete retaining walls holding back the wet ground and was surrounded by a textbook ditch, barbed-wire fence, and eighteen foot tall concrete wall. Armed metal guard towers were spaced around it and divided up the base's individual parts along with plenty of the always useful hesco barriers and the buildings were protected by thousands of sandbags. She could see that as plain as could be from her altitude as she zoomed overhead as a flight of twelve Raptors took off from below her.

"Looks like we're still here," she noted to Helo, watching the busy base bustling below her.

"Sure are," he nodded, "Sorry guys, no fun today."

"Dammit," one of the Marines laughed.

"Good flying eltee," Kelsey heard Lieutenant Krytos call out from the back, flashing a grin to her that she really took notice of.

"All in a day's work Kyrtos," she said as the Raptor banked slightly, "Alright, landing now."

She waited for the clearance that the ground tower called out to her to land. The pads were concrete, and once the twelve Raptors there took off she came aligned her bird to come down on top of one that a soldier on the ground was waving her to one of them. The Raptor gently landed, and she sighed in relief, one part of this mission, the tough part, was done, now to inform the ground commander about what was coming and get back to the Galactica.

"Let's go Lightbulb," David called out, waving her over, holding a small case with cuffs on it.

She walked over to him, and she held her right arm up. As ordered, he cuffed one side of the metal cuffs to her wrist, and then put the other on the case. In this case was the Galactica's attack plan and time table. It wasn't a big document, in fact it was fantastically simple, fitting on one page. But this was regulations, messengers had to carry such messages in these cases, and have them attached to themselves and had to be escorted by Marines.

"Stay in our perimeter, we'll be fine," Krytos instructed her, "Mind the bird sir," he then instructed Helo.

"Yeah, I'll mind the bird," Helo grumbled as he opened the hatch and two Marines stepped out.

"Let's go."

Kelsey walked out after taking off her helmet, knowing that it would get in the way. The other two Marines came right back out behind her, and without pause they shepherd the pilot towards cover. Waiting there was a Colonial Army officer, eager to figure out what they were doing there.

"Lieutenant," the Captain greeted them, "Good to see you."

"Likewise sir, we weren't sure if there were any Colonial forces still at large," Kelsey saluted.

"Well we're here and not going anywhere," the man smiled, and then pointed at the case, "Got something important?"

"Yes sir, needs to go straight to the commanding officer," Krytos responded.

"You two, get them to HQ," the Captain yelled out to two soldiers who nodded and the Marines began moving forward.

Kelsey followed, keeping an eye on the skies. She knew that intelligence said that orbital supremacy was in the hands of the enemy. So there was no way that they could feel safe. Orbital bombardment could wipe them out at any moment, but that was the risk they took, and hopefully they'd be able to get their message to the commander here, and get out before anything else happened.

They got through the base quickly enough, and to the headquarters building and were ushered in. Inside they saw the classic military orderly chaos that came with a headquarters building. The Marine officer with her grabbed the first man he saw and asked where the commanding officer was.

"You, where's the commander here?" the Marine asked.

"He's here," an older voice stated calmly from next to them and each of them snapped to attention.

"Admiral sir," Kelsey greeted him.

"Lieutenant Kelsey Adama, full-grade," Admiral Queen greeted her, "Thought you'd be a Captain by now."

"I was close before this mission, sir," Kelsey shrugged.

"This little stunt will probably get you your promotion," Queen noted with a nod, and then pointed at the case, "You have a message."

"Oh yes sir, with Admiral Adama's compliments," she said, takin the offered key from Lieutenant Krytos and unlocked the cuffs. She then took the key to the case and unlocked that and handed him the lone piece of paper.

"Admiral Adama…" Queen trailed off as he read the message and then furrowed his brow, "Gods…if this works everyone on that ship is going to be getting a promotion. Tell your CO to bump up his timetable, we're already pushing forward."

"Aye sir," she responded, nodding in a surprised tone.

"Now this fight is going to be a rough one, but with this…damn is just might work out."

"Yes sir…I can honestly say we really want to be there for that."

"I'd bet, not many Viper pilots can claim what your guys will."

"No sir," Kelsey grinned, "With your permission sir."

"Yes…best back to your ship," he responded, giving her a salute to dismiss her.

"Let's go guys."

Kelsey quickly led the way out and the Marines were outside waiting on her, talking with some of the other troops guarding the base. They'd found themselves in on some rather juicy information that they immediately shared with her.

"Lieutenant," Krytos said waving her to come close, "You know what's happened here?"

"What's happened?"

"Earth sent troops to help us," he replied, "Maybe some of the Earthers you knew are here."

"Maybe, but where are they?"

"I heard they'd taken off in those Raptors, scuttlebutt says somewhere in the high mountains," he shrugged, "The guys I talked to didn't say much else."

"Well that doesn't help," Kelsey shook her head, "Either we've gotta get back to the ship Marines. Let's go."

The group returned at a jog to see Helo sitting in a concrete shelter, waiting on them. Without a word they got back in their Raptor, and were lifting off. The ground crew had topped off their tanks but hadn't given them any new ordinance, perhaps as a motivator to get them into FTL and back to the fleet. The promise of a real battle to come was enough for them, and once in air they rose to a thousand feet and jumped.

In Orbit, Ha'tak Flagship

"Is it confirmed?" the leader of the pirate group asked, "Is the agent dead?"

"Yes, a bullet severed his spine, he was dead when our warriors found him," the lieutenant confirming this stated.

He shook his head, shifting in his medieval style armor, a flawless metal cuirass with gold edging and a symbol in the middle of his chest, denoting his new allegiance. It was one wide crescent opening downwards with another crescent, a somewhat smaller one, overlaid onto it with a point coming down from the middle. His cape was golden, attached to the belt loops on shoulder guards which were over complex and expensive chain mail. His legs and arms also had armor plates over chain mail, with other golden décor added on.

The older man was once a king, a kin newly empowered with the wealth of a Gou'ald system lord whose armies he'd defeated in a triumphant battle and taken their weapons and used them to keep absolute power. This power now had a religious aspect to it, a new arrival, prophesizing a new coming of 'God's People', and that those who joined would rule over all nonbelievers. It was a fantastic way to embellish his power, but over time he'd come to believe it.

So he'd zealously led his armies through the gate, taking over other worlds, including formally Ori-turned worlds, taking over other Gou'ald and Jaffa weapons and ships from a Lucian Alliance that seemed to be fracturing. His rise had gone unnoticed, thanks to the Taur'i seemingly disappearing now that there was no great foe plaguing the galaxy.

"We must avenge him, God's word demands it," the leader growled, "Call in our reinforcements, we're entering the atmosphere and finishing these worthless disbelievers."

"But milord," the lieutenant pleaded, "The interference, our sensors and weapons can't see anything."

"Then aim manually you worthless cowards!"

"Our landing craft sir, they won't even get close enough to-," he tried to elaborate.

"They won't have to, we'll be too close to their precious city. Once that is taken, they will crumble," the caped man grinned, "Summon all ships, this ends now."

With a rapid call the order was given, and joining the six poorly built Ha'tak class Motherships were twenty-three more. Joining them were several dozen Alkeshes, Tel'taks, and Troop Transports. Aboard several thousand more of their ragtag warriors waited their chance to fight. Most of the troops now waiting were not the ragtag formations of former Ori and conscripts. These were drawn from the core of his army, armored with steel and chain mail, and wielding Staff Weapons with good training thanks to the assistance of the now-fallen 'Agent'.

"All ships are here milord," the lieutenant declared.

"Send our best," the commander grinned, knowing the force he had chosen was good, and that using them by extension made him clever and he could just see the results unfolding now.

Around the fleet fifteen Tel'taks cloaked, their twenty-five passengers, in each, readied for battle. Their destination was picked for them, Olympus, and there was no way the Colonials would know that they were coming.

"Take us down once they have occupied the defenders."

The fleet turned downwards, and started descending, their crews rushed to their stations, taking manual control of their weapons, ready to rain fire down upon Kobol and its defenders.

City Ship Olympus

The twelve Raptors had landed on a well-improvised landing pad built on top of one of the piers, dropped off their passengers, the combined Colonial and Earth teams. With that done they'd taken off, returning to base, lifting off above the oddly thick fog around the cold water Olympus sat on.

"Let's move, you all know where you're supposed to go so let's get on it!" Colonel Black ordered the other Colonial teams, "Colonel, I'm assuming you know where you're going?"

"I do," O'Neill nodded as the Colonial troops began rushing off to their positions.

"Like he knows," Dr. Underwood rolled his eyes whispering to Dr. Ellis.

"If you're gonna whisper do it better," Major Rosario hissed from behind the two, leaning in grabbing his shoulder with her right hand, shoving him forward along with the others.

The walked across the pier to a door with a single helmeted guard standing his watch behind a small sandbag wall. He nodded to them as they came up, and then got a good look at the Earth unit, and had to do a double-take at the presence of the two Earth teams. He obviously hadn't been informed of this, and as a security personnel for the RSEC he wasn't surprised.

As the team walked in and the door shut behind him a noise caught his attention, a slight warbling sound that was just faintly there. It was tough for him to pick out, but he was just about sure it was in fact there. The guard looked back and forth and into the air, hoping the fog would give him some clue. He saw the shadowy figure of his partner and a few other personnel on the landing pad, moving about amongst the crates, small fuel tank, and concrete dividers normally used on highways He stepped out of his sandbag enclosure and called over to them.

"You guys hear that?" he hollered over.

"Hear what?" one of the Colonials asked.

"That noise," he elaborated, looking up as it started to fade.

"I don't hear anything thanks to those damned Raptors just now," his partner shrugged as he walked out of the concrete box put there to stop an out-of-control Raptor.

"That's true," the guard responded, noting the two mechanics lifting a crate over to the other side of the small fuel tank and out of sight.

But before the other woman could respond there was a crash and clanging as tools hit the ground from behind the fuel tank. The female Colonial guard sighed irritably and started walking over to the mechanics to berate them for such clumsiness.

"What the frak guys? Are you kidding?" she groaned as she came around the corner to see a spattering of tools and the crate on its side and a table jostled out of position. But no mechanics, "Seriously? Not the time to try and think I'm cleaning this up!"

But she and her partner didn't hear anything or see anything. Looking back at him she shrugged and then walked to the other stack of crates. As she did that she saw something that made her spine go cold and brought her carbine to her shoulder, one of the men's boots, toe down. She shuffled over and saw the two bodies, blood pooling around their heads. Before she got a word off a knife sliced through the air and into her trachea, cutting through her collarbone and hitting her voicebox.

Choking on death the young guard's legs began giving out as her mouth hung open, trying to gain any breath in a quivering manner. Her eyes went wide when a pair of arms gently guided her down, so as not to let there be a sound. Looking up as she was put on her back her hands tried grabbing at the knife that had killed her, and her wide eyes saw the black clothed figure that had just killed her. As her vision faded and life left her body, the man slid the slim dagger out, nonchalantly brushing the blade clean on her arm.

He got up and saw one of his comrades finish dispatching the other guard when he came around the corner, sliding a knife from the guard's spine. He now saw a crowd of his troops, clothed fully in black cloaks over leather armor with steel greaves and shin-guards. Each had a hood over their head and a black cloth wrapped around their face. Their weapons were simple, Plasma Repeaters attached to the top of their dominant arms and knives.

There were seventy-five of his men here, three of the Tel'taks had dropped them off, with the others scattering them on other buildings or piers, and were now infiltrating, working as far into the city as they could to cause as much chaos as possible. With a signal from his hand the unit opened the door, doing as they'd seen done by the Colonials earlier, and gained entry. From there they split up, taking different corridors up and down, working their way forward, careful and silent.

Within the corridors the Colonials and Earthers were none-the-wiser. They were just trying to get to know one another, having to work together after such a short pause between nearly killing each other.

"So," Captain Hailey noted from next to the man she'd recognized as what she'd surmised as the Colonial team's tech man, Dr. Cruzii, "You figured out how to turn on the lights."

"There wasn't a simple solution to that one, we had to jury rig our own power so the city would accept it," Cruzii nonchalantly responded.

"Surprised you could do it," she replied, arrogance leaking into her tone.

"Complex, not hard," Cruzii corrected her, "And I already figured out that crystal."

"Oh look who's so smart," Hailey laughed, "You're where we were a decade ago."

"Don't worry about her bruh," Dr. Underwood said, interrupting, "She's like this all the time, hurtful."

"Kinda have to, mistakes are not something I like to slow me down," she responded.

"Girl I told you I'd written it down as a four but read it as a nine, not my fault I was on a roll!" Underwood snapped back in his own defense.

"Maybe you oughta practice then," Hailey quipped.

"Like I said, hurtful."

"She's not the humblest of individuals is she?" Colonial Lieutenant Bragg whispered to Major Rosario who was next to her.

"We're lucky, caught her on one of her good days," Rosario laughed.

Up ahead in the line Lieutenant Holden, SG-1's sniper was in the rear, awkwardly walking alongside one of the Colonials she'd encountered and gotten caught by. She noticed and he noticed, but the Colonial, Corporal Emerick, a SAW gunner, didn't want to leave things at that, after all, he noticed that she ranked easily as a nine or ten.

"Sorry about the…y'know prisoner thing," he started, catching her by surprise for a second.

"It's alright, shit happens," Holden shrugged off looking straight ahead, "Just lucky I didn't decide to fight."

"Yeah, would've had to aim my beauty at you," he laughed, patting his SAW.

"Not as pretty as mine," Holden challenged him, holding up her M501 in its DMR configuration, "A product of pure surgical precision."

"Product of death in numbers," Emerick responded, not liking the challenge and not liking snipers in general.

"I thought that MG's were what the military gave the guys who can't shoot with normal guns?"

"Let some hostiles come around and we'll see about that."

In the lead Colonel O'Neill and Colonel Black were listening to that, and O'Neill turned around.

"Hey, don't make me stop pull over," he threatened with a sarcastic joke.

"Oh they're soldiers, it's what they do," Black responded.

"Not all of them," Brenda piped up from behind O'Neill.

"Oh yeah, right," Black shrugged.

"Y'know, for just having been clobbered by my walking sasquatch here," O'Neill started, pointing out Major Blanton, "You're pretty okay with that."

"I was going easy on him," Black hardly hesitated, maintaining his forward stare.

"Famous words spoken in context," O'Neill smirked, getting a slight smirk in return from Black.

"Is it just me or is this whole conversation just one big dick-waving competition?" Brenda asked Agent Fraser.

"They're soldiers, what do you expect?"

Battlestar Galactica

On the CIC of Galactica activity was the rule of the day, everyone was doing their most to prepare for battle. Extra first-aid kits were being handed out, fire extinguishers positioned, and tool boxes readied. Every man and woman in the ship was double and triple checking their stations, knowing that there was something that could be done better.

The Viper pilots waited in their briefing rooms, ready for the signal to man their fighters. Joining them was Kelsey Adama, just having arrived back aboard. She saw the digital clock on the wall, reading a countdown timer that was at forty-five minutes and twenty-one seconds.

"Oh so you didn't start without me," she chirped as she walked in and Starbuck perked up from her seat.

"Hey we don't have to come rescue you, what a change of pace," the cocky blonde responded.

"Oh I know what a bummer that must be for you," Kelsey snapped back at her, taking her seat in the row behind Starbuck.

Lee was standing, speaking with one of the squadron commanders when his sister had walked in. He was of course relieved, but now his curiosity needed answers. She'd been to their future combat zone, so he needed her to spill on what she'd seen down there.

"Lieutenant, you're back, mind telling us what you saw down there?" he asked, all business in his tone.

"Well Colonial forces are still dug in like ticks, the main base in the highlands and mountains seems to be untouched and hostile aircraft are being held at bay around their airspace."

"And their fighters? If they have fighters?"

"Not impressive in the least, but they do have orbit and thus altitude and energy weapons on top of that. We were jumped almost immediately after leveling off," Kelsey informed him, but leaned back cockily, "But yours truly has drawn first blood for the Galactica, two kills!"

"With a Raptor…fantastic," Starbuck pouted.

"It's okay Captain, I'll leave enough for the rest of you," Kelsey bragged.

The other pilots gave boos and cheers intermixed among each other. It was classic Viper jock behavior, kills and glory seemed to be the primary goal of these pilots, and they tended to either do that or die.

"Ahem, anything else you can remember for us?" Lee interrupted, bringing order back to his ready room.

"Uh…there was ground fire, inaccurate and easy to dodge. Stay above a thousand feet and we'll be fine."

"Excellent, you all know your duties, but let's go over them once more, gotta make this count."

As Lee gave his briefing once again Admiral Adama stood at the bridge, waiting. This was hard to do, but he had to give his ground-side allies time to organize, but now he'd bumped up the time table, he had been waiting another forty-five minutes, but now he'd bumped up his time table to ten minutes and change. His forces were ready, he knew that they were.

"Colonel," Bill called out, "All ships go to action stations and confirm time to their jump."

"Aye sir," Tigh responded, and gave the order.

"Action stations! Action stations! Set Condition One throughout the ship," the loudpspeakers blared out.

"All ships answer ready for jump sir," Dee called out, "Timetable is all green on all ships."

"Engine room ready?" Adama called out.

"Yes sir, you just give the word," his chief engineer said with pride.

"Good," Adama said.

"All batteries answer ready sir!"

"Vipers going in the tubes now!"

"Colonel, time to ready our nukes," Adama commanded, taking out his necklace with the nuclear arming key.

"Aye sir," Tigh responded, pulling out his own key, and lifted up his console, typing in his arming code as Adama did the same.

"Turn your key, now."

Both men turned their keys and unlocked their most dangerous weapons. Galactica was ready. As the timer hit five minutes all stations were double checked and the ship was ready. When the countdown timer hit two minutes Adama turned to Gaeta.

"Mr. Gaeta, prepare for FTL jump," he said calmly and then picked up his ship-wide phone.

"FTL is green sir," Gaeta confirmed with a nod.

"All hands, brace for turbulence."

**You know what's going to happen next don't you? I've been waiting a long, long time for an excuse to do this and I can tell you one thing guys, I am going to do my damndest to do this right!**

**Next Chapter Preview: Dropping like a rock.**


	21. Chapter 20

**Okay here we go guys, I know you've been excited about this but first I've got more Colonial name changes.**

**CO of Team 1 Captain Thomas Stinson – Captain Thomas Stison**

**CO of Team 2 Captain Samuel Fredericks – Captain Samuel Frederei**

**With that out of the way brace yourselves for quite a long chapter. I hope I can look back on it and call it my finest to date.**

Chapter 20

Location: EDFS _Shokaku_

Date: February 17, 2025

Time: 0915

The _Shokaku_ was en route, her hangar bays a hive of activity. The jet black F/A-302B Banshees being serviced and prepped for battle. Japanese crewmen, trained by the US in carrier operations, moved swiftly to get ready all over the ship.

Each man and woman had an unarmored suit with a rebreather mounted on their backs. The other portions of the suit had a full helmet and mask with a Kevlar vest and holster. Like their soldier brethren their suits had a normal outer cloth covering colored in grey digital camouflage. They also had a lightweight helmet that, like the rest of their suit, was sealed with the hose connecting it to the rebreather covered in a protective coating.

The flight deck personnel had the color-coded helmets and vests that signified their specialties. Red for munitions handlers, purple for fuel personnel, blue for plane handlers, green for catapult and arresting, yellow for directors, brown for inspections, and white for air traffic and signaling. There were Space Sparrows, rail gun ammunition, and most deadly of all were Valkyrie Anti-Ship Missiles. These deadly nuclear tipped missiles were much larger than the standard anti-ship missiles they had used before, being a full meter longer at nearly twenty feet long with a diameter of close to three feet. Each Banshee could only attach one missile, due to the weight of the missile itself, but they weren't going to use them today.

Their massive air wing was preparing for the upcoming mission in briefings and a few in last-minute simulators. The rest of the pilots were checking over their Banshees personally, trailing their hands over the smooth black metal as all pilots seem to do in a methodical ritual that such men and women did to connect to their machines. Their machines, the Banshees all Earth fighter pilots flew, differed from ship to ship, pilot to pilot. The Banshees of the Shokaku were jet black, as was standard, but on their right wings was a stylized dark red dot with the red rays of the JSDF's flag and old Imperial flag going out and fading into the black of the rest of the hull.

The Mohican Assault Gunships were another example of this unique paint scheme. The same insignia was painted into the nose of the craft, while the rest was the same black. The armament of these gunships consisted of two large railguns, the same used as anti-aircraft batteries by the ground forces, slung beneath the wings and two more above the wings mounted on the hull itself. A thirty millimeter cannon was mounted on the chin in a flexible turret that could target anything in a three hundred and sixty degree field of fire below the Mohican. Further down the wings were six pylons for mounting seventy-millimeter rocket pods, or four missiles on each. But each Mohican had another weapon on a special hardpoint on their bellies, a Valkyrie Missile.

As a consequence the utmost caution was being taken in the painstaking linking of the guidance system to the small hyperdrive to the targeting system of the Mohicans. Even more caution was being taken with the linking of the nuclear warhead by specially qualified munitions handlers. Once that was done, they were ready, as the Valkyries were the last weapons to be mounted on the Mohicans. All that remained was word, from their ground teams for the call for support.

Location: City Ship Olympus, Kobol

"Alright, let's get to work," Brenda declared, "Doc," she said, offering the tech specialists a way into the notably revamped and worked-on power control room of the city ship.

"What've you guys been doing?" Hailey cried out as she saw the massive power cables in the ZPM holes.

"Trying to get this thing working," Dr. Cruzii responded defensively, "No thanks to you guys sinking the damn thing."

"Cruzii, watch the attitude," Colonel Black snapped at the man, "Do what you can to get them started, use your security clearance to access what we've gotten done so far."

"Which hasn't been much, thanks for nothing Baltar," his assistant, Dr. Wimmera, grumbled under her breath as she pulled up a chair and started to boot up the Colonial system that was connected to the city's systems.

"Yeah…well best get to work guys," O'Neill awkwardly responded, stepping out into the hall where the rest of the unit was gathered.

"Military…" Underwood grumbled as they left, but turned to Hailey who was setting a hardened suitcase on a table in the corner, "No offense Hailey."

"None taken," she replied without hesitation as she typed in a code on the lock.

The case opened to reveal a Styrofoam lining with cavities carved out in the shape of the red conical EM-ZPM inside along with a copy of an Ancient Data Crystal with a copy of the Atlantis basecode and operating system. Dr. Underwood had another copy of the clear and white crystal, which he'd kept in a smaller version of the case Hailey had in his backpack. Hers was the first to be used, with the other being used as backup just in case.

"Another…data device?" Cruzii asked as he saw the crystal that Hailey had brought.

"No, power crystal, Zero Point Module," Hailey responded without hesitation.

"Looks different than the ones we found," Cruzii noted as he examined the large cone-shaped red crystal.

"You found ZPM's?" Hailey asked.

"Two of them, we weren't exactly sure of what they were until one of the Kobol Expedition ships started some experiments on them, nearly destroyed their ship. So we decided not to plug them in here for that reason."

"It wouldn't have done anything," Hailey noted evenly, "The operating system is wiped clean. Nowhere for power to be directed, the ZPM would just sit there with no way for the power to be used. At best you'd turn on the lights."

"We did manage that with this," Cruzii patted on the three massive power cables fastened to the central ZPM hub.

"So this should be simple, some of the basic secondary systems must have remained intact within themselves, this place is different than-ow!" Underwood yelped as Hailey slapped him upside the head, and then saw her giving him a look that said 'shutup', "Oh right…"

"Yeah…" Ruby said under her breath as she snatched the copy of the system code.

"Alright, gonna ignore that but remember that," Cruzii responded wistfully, his photographic memory taking every single detail and shape and symbol he could observe.

"What do we have to work with?" Ruby whispered as she sat down at a chair and saw the window open that was synced with the city's system, but saw nothing but nonsense, "Jeez McKay, leave them a mess why don't you?"

"What? Oh man, delete this crap first of all," Underwood chuckled, pulling out his tablet and connected an Ancient connection cable and went to an untouched crystal where he plugged in and started to sync up with the mess of a system Olympus had.

"Hold on what're you doing?" Dr. Wimmera interrupted him, "You're not seriously deleting this?!"

"It's jibberish girl, see," he held up his tablet to show the English translations, "Nothing here at all, but we've got to delete the whole system's code so it doesn't corrupt the right version."

"Besides, you've got copies to go through and figure that out yourself," Hailey responded as she turned on a flashlight and examined the power connections.

"How are you sure we do?" Cruzii responded, "No, wait, dumb question, Baltar's not that stupid."

He sat down and began typing into the desktop in front of him, which was the Colonials' master control center. But he was rather disappointed in the scientists before him who hadn't been able to figure out how to get their computers to interact with the system in any meaningful way. So he quickly started writing a simple program to start deleting the files the city had in its databanks which needed to be completely deleted.

As he tested it after a few moments of modifying the current program something unforeseen happened. The lights went out entirely, and the Colonial computers shut down as they lost power. What followed was a series of pops and a shower of sparks from the end of the cables that made everyone back away, covering their face instinctively.

"What the hell did you do?!" Cruzii snapped.

"I was about to ask you the same question!" Hailey replied, ripping out the cables, not caring that she was undoing weeks, if not months of work by the Colonials, "Useless morons…" she grumbled as the last of the heavy insulated cables and free sparking and now glowing ends clattered to the ground.

"What happened?" Underwood asked, "The whole system just died."

"We've lost power," Dr. Wimmera called out as flashlights began coming on and Colonel O'Neill rushed in.

"What'd you guys do?!" he demanded.

"Power's been cut, has to be the generators giving out, nothing happened in here that would have caused it," Ruby answered quickly, tracing her steps and her recording quickly, "Just like if you pulled the plug on any electronic device."

"Can we do what we need to do with that powering the city?" Cruzii pointed to the ZPM.

"Of course we can," Hailey replied as she looked into the three ZPM holes, but what she saw didn't give her a good impression, "Oh shit…the cutoff caused an overload from the cables, they sparked and may have damaged the inserts but I doubt that, I'll have to at least clean it. I can't risk putting the ZPM in there until that point."

"We don't have any of those supplies in here," Cruzii replied, shaking his head.

"I have my computer cleaning kit," Ruby stated, raising her hand.

"Give it!" Hailey ordered.

"Colonel," Colonel Black interrupted, stepping in, "We've got a problem, some of our security teams aren't responding and we can see smoke rising from the generators. The base is compromised."

"Shit, Colonel Valdez!" O'Neill called out to the other SG Team Leader.

"Yes Colonel," the darker skinned Mexican officer responded on the radio.

"We've got trouble, Colonel where-," O'Neill began, but was stopped by the faint sounds of gunfire echoing way down the hallway as Colonel Black lifted a hand to his headset.

"Hostiles have infiltrated into the city," Black snapped, "We've got reports of engagements in the other towers."

"It's chaos out there, they need help sir," one of the senior Colonial officers stated plainly.

"We need to fan out, secure the area around this room, and get a team to the control tower to activate the shield," O'Neill declared.

"What about us?" Brenda asked, referring to the civilian team members.

"You are staying here!" O'Neill snapped, pointing at the ground to really emphasize his point, "Defend this room and get that shield online. Hailey, you and…what's your name?" he asked Dr. Cruzii.

"Cruzii," he informed him.

"Colonel you okay with him going to the control room?"

"Of course, we'll need all the help we can get up there," Black agreed, "I'll get them there if you want to start sweeping the tower."

"Alright, Blanton, detach your section and go with them," O'Neill ordered, "Rosario you're with me, securing the outer approaches."

"Here, map," Dr. Wimmera offered, and the team commanders gathered around.

"Best to integrate the teams, don't want your security teams to open up on our own," O'Neill suggested.

"Okay…Frederei, split your team into fireteams, they'll operate with, Valdez?"

"Si, we're ready senor," Colonel Valdez stated.

"Good, make sure you ID your targets, last thing we want is friendly fire," O'Neill replied, acknowledging the inherent dangers that were present at the moment, "Especially since we've just started playing nice now."

"A rematch might be in works one day, on better terms," Black noted in a smirk, "In the meantime let's clean house. Stison, I want one of your fireteams, they'll help escort the techies and you take the other team and help secure the area along with…Rosario?" he pointed at the young Earth officer.

"We'll take care of your troops sir," Rosario nodded.

"They'll take care of you every bit as well as you will," Black assured her, looking at the map, "Let's see…we've got several Raptor landing pads, I've tried contacting them here, gone," he pointed at one of the sites and then another, "here, gone. No responses from any of them."

"The best places to set up ambushes are here, here, and here," Blanton suggested, pointing at trio of buildings that was a hub for several skybridges, "Set up our snipers there and we can dominate the area's windows and outer passages. I've studied the schematics for security reasons."

"We'll relay the plan."

"Mixing fireteams of four with fireteams from SG-36 and we can head off two of those building routes, secure them and press forward. Rosario, you and your team can take the other with another Colonial fireteam. The other team will have to move to the command center, there, once power is restored, they can get the systems restored, and get the shield operational."

"Sounds like a plan," Black stated, nodding in agreement.

"We're in agreement?" O'Neill asked, looking back and forth. The men and women around the table and the map nodded and gave murmurs, their grim expressions very much accentuated in the dark, lit with the light of their flashlights, "Okay, let's get this done."

The team filed out, and the officers began gathering their teams, the Spanish speaking Mexican team quickly put the Colonials off, as their language was nothing like anything the Colonials had ever heard before. Very few of the Colonials spoke old languages, but none could even recognize Spanish. Yet they were still able to recognize a few similar words, as was the simple fact of Spanish. But the Mexican ex-special forces troops spoke good English, which the Colonials spoke.

"Alright, I'm Colonel Yonathan Ramirez Valdez, I'm commander of SG-36," the man stated to the eight Colonial troops who were split off to operate alongside the Earth team.

"Captain Frederei," the Colonial team commander responded, saluting and shaking the hand of the Mexican colonel, "Your men ready for this?"

"My men have been doing their duty for a long time, this will be little different."

"Best way to think about it,"

"Vamonos," Colonel Valdez ordered to his men, who fell into line behind him with the Colonials alongside them, a map of the city on their HUD's.

The team quickly moved out of sight, leaving SG-1 to organize and move out as well. After a few moments of rush-preparation they did so, moving out at a quick-walk as Captain Hailey and Dr. Cruzii were shepherded out and up a flight of stairs towards the central tower's peak. This team of ten moved out quickly, with the Colonials leading the way. Meanwhile another mishmash Colonial/Earth squad, with O'Neill in the lead, rushed down the stairs towards the underground section where the tower was connected with the rest of the city at its base, with one long hall being the only access to the stairwell that led to the power room. This left Agent Fraser and a pair of RSEC guards as the only defense the room had along with the armed civilians, which included four medical personnel and three tech specialists along with Brenda Jackson.

"Hey Brenda," Dr. Lawson, or Cathy, their medical head asked nervously, "What do we do if someone…bad comes this way?"

"You remember what we were told, defend ourselves," Brenda reminded her, "In the meantime, um…Agent Fraser," she called out.

"Yes Miss Jackson?" the Colonial intelligence agent responded from the hall.

"Is that room there empty?" she pointed at an open door just across the atrium-like hall that branched out into three separate halls that each of their teams had started down, "I think we might want to get a medical station set up there."

"We've got doctors, might as well, lots of people are about to start getting hurt," Fraser nodded in agreement, "Doctors, if you please?" he beckoned the medical people forward, "You two split up, take one hall each, I'll take the big one."

"Yes sir," the two guards nodded quickly, shuffling over in the dimly lit corridor to the entrance of the atrium and kneeled down, carbines at their shoulders but not aimed downrange.

Cathy and Tew, her assistant rushed out quickly, flashlights on as they entered what looked to be a lab of some kind where there were several Colonial crates, tool boxes, and the makings of a work lounge set up on several fold-out tables that they quickly cleared off with the help of the two Colonial doctors Deckero and Hall.

As they went about their business quickly Brenda went over to Underwood, checking his progress as he cleaned up all three ZPM housing units.

"Mike please tell me you're almost ready," Brenda demanded of him as he worked quickly scrubbed and sprayed the cleaner into the slots, making certain not a single particle was left that he could see.

"Can't rush this kind of work Brenda…one bad energy transfer or contaminated charge and the ZPM dies," he stated, stress in his voice, "But good thing I'm a genius, done!"

"Here," Ruby stated as she carried the ZPM over to him.

"Easy," Underwood breathed, taking the device from her hands with both of his own hands as Dr. Wimmera sat there chewing her nails in rapt anticipation, "Okay, here it goes."

He turned the conical crystal down, hoping that the transfer would begin as soon as he put the device inside. His hands shook slightly as he brought it down, starting to immerse the crystal inside until it was halfway in and then glowed red and came to life with an audible hum. Sighing in relief he pushed ever so gently downwards and the ZPM was pulled in by the tower automatically and pulled in to the hilt. The lights came on immediately, and their computer screens lit up with the familiar jumbled mess of a phony operating code they needed to delete.

"Okay, we have power," Ruby called out, a relieved smile on her face.

"Get to work, hurry," Brenda ordered.

"Going."

The group hurriedly began typing on their tablets, beeping ringing out as they began working hurriedly. All three techies quickly began purging every single piece of code they saw. Brenda watched, rubbing her hands together nervously, anticipation building with the knowledge something was going to happen. As they worked, she began pacing, hating that she had nothing to contribute except as another gun.

"You're going to wear a hole in the floor my dear," Dr. Walt quipped from where he was seated at a lone table, a deck of cards in hand as played Solitaire, waiting for anything that would require his assistance in the room.

"I can't help it," Brenda responded with a sigh as she continued to pace.

"Have to be doing something at all times?" Walt asked cocking his head slightly.

"It's how I got this job y'know, I never stopped trying to…go the next step, be someone great. I mean you've been reading the reports on the original SG-1's, Atlantis, and everyone else who was involved in the early days. I've been trying to do what they did."

"I thought you were going to try and do what your father set out to do?" Walt inquired, remembering a past conversation they'd had.

"Well…that's why I started, it was the reason I went for this position. But now that I have it, I can't help but feel like I'm supposed to be this…hero that saves the day all the time. Like O'Neill, Carter, Jackson, Teal'c, Mitchell, and all them."

"So do all of us Brenda, this patch on our shoulders isn't a number, it's a legacy, and our duty is to uphold that legacy," Walt reminded her.

"How well's that going for us?" she sighed quietly, leaning against the wall, looking up at the ceiling, the weight of what she was doing and where she was dawning on her.

"Well," Walt said with a smile, "No one ever said it was going to be easy."

* * *

"Here," Hailey declared, pointing at a two sided door that she opened with a swipe of her hand over the blue sensor, "Transporter."

Indeed as she said was an Ancient transporter, which she'd known from McKay's reports had been relegated to a separate system, but tampered with.

"Underwood, have you purged and replaced the transporter systems yet?"

"First thing I did, as you asked," the scientist replied on the radio.

"Good," Blanton responded, "Hop in guys, this'll get us where we need to go really quick."

"What do you mean?" Colonel Black asked quickly.

"It's a transporter, hit any of these red lights and it'll teleport us there in the blink of an eye," Hailey filled him in.

"You've definitely seen this before," Sergeant Bradley, the big Colonial NCO, mumbled under his breath.

"A few times," Hailey said nonchalantly as the group piled in, Dr. Cruzii squeezing in rather uncomfortably close to her in particular.

"I'm assuming this operated on the same principles as the Ring?" he asked, although it was more of a knowing hypothesis.

"Look at you," Hailey smirked, "Pretty soon I'll be able to put a piece of cheese in a maze and have you find your way to it."

"Play nice…" Blanton reminded her.

"Hit the central red dot please," Hailey ordered, she couldn't reach because Cruzii was practically pinning her into the corner, shoulder to shoulder.

"This one?" Cruzii said as he pushed it, and thankfully for everyone inside the system was installed properly and they felt the familiar feeling of being transported.

"Secure the area," Black commanded as he and Blanton were the first to exit, flashing their rifles out and swept the immediate hall, which was empty. The Colonials and Earth troops were right behind them, and as was Hailey.

"No," Cruzii corrected her, grabbing her and holding her in the transporter, "More than enough guns to go around but not enough brains."

"I don't need you to hold my hand!" Hailey flushed quickly.

"Clear! Come you two," Blanton ordered.

They walked out, following their escorts closely. It didn't take long before they arrived at the central command center for the tall main tower.

"Friendlies coming in!" Colonel Black yelled out to the alert RSEC sentries in the main command tower.

"Identify!" one yelled from out of sight.

"Colonel Black, Recon One with Earth troops and technical advisors."

"We got word you were coming Colonel," another voice said in response as a helmeted officer, a Major, stepped into sight, carbine in hand, "Glad you made it. We've got hostiles across the city, my security teams are going dark one by one."

The team walked out and Colonel Black shook his head in response to the information.

"We should be able to do something about that," the senior officer nodded while his team passed by along with the Earth fireteam and their two techies, "How many men do you have in the city?"

"We had a full company, nearly two-hundred troops, but I've lost contact with at least half of them across the city and the landing sites are dark and the generators got hit by something."

"Or someone," Major Blanton interrupted as he entered the conversation, "Major Blanton, SG-1."

"Good to see Earth's come to the party, what're your people looking to do Major?"

"We brought along a power source and an operating system to bring Olympus fully online so we can activate the city's shields."

"Shields?"

"Apparently this place is more than just a city Major," Colonel Black informed the subordinate security officer.

"Learn something new every day in this job," the major quipped.

Back at the main atrium where the team spread out and Cruzii and Hailey rushed up the wide steps to the control tables things were going quickly.

"What've you gotten done so far?" Hailey demanded as she ducked under one of the consoles and began to link her own tablet to the crystals as Cruzii observed her.

"We've gotten the power grid systems purged, but there's a lot of subsystems that are contaminated," Ruby responded to her, "We're focusing on the shield's systems."

"Okay, we'll purge the command systems from here," Hailey responded, sitting down and getting to work, tapping her delete button more times now than at any time before.

"May want to purge the subroutines that do internal diagnostics, this city was half submerged when we found it, who knows what important components were damaged," Cruzii declared as he began what he'd stated needed to be done before Hailey could respond.

As they worked Lieutenant Holden, SG-1's sniper, rushed out onto the balcony with her M-501 Assault Rifle ready for use in its DMR configuration with a lengthened barrel and a variable power scope with optional thermal imaging and range-finder built into it. She popped open her bipod and got into position to start scoping out any hostiles she could see and call them out or engage if possible. But the fog was rather difficult to see anything moving in the buildings. The main piers in her field of vision were masked for the most part.

"Now's as good a time as any to test the sniper versus the machine gun theory," a familiar voice stated from next to her as Colonial Corporal Emerick kneeled down behind a pot and propped open his own bipod on his belt-fed SAW.

"Have to be able see your targets don't you?" Holden asked as she switched to thermal and saw a series of human figures in line, running at full sprint down the open space of the pier to her right and keyed her radio, "Because I sure do, Major, tally six bogeys. No visible weapons, their hands are free."

"Probably wrist-mounted plasma repeaters. Engage if you can."

"Copy that…" Holden grinned, and got the range and adjusted her scope accordingly, "Downhill…no wind…" she started listing off as the scope calculated the shot along with her own training. But before she could finish her scope went completely white, and a humming noise rang in their ears, "What the…oh shit! Got off the balcony!"

She picked up her rifle and stood to her feet but as she did so a triangular shaped craft emerged from its cloak and leveled two staff cannons at them. The Colonial Corporal, shocked at the sight, backed away in the opposite direction, firing his SAW at the transport as it fired. Two plasma bolts slammed into the edge of the balcony and threw both of them through the air and through the rebuilt stain-glass window.

"Contact!" came the inevitable shout as everyone scrambled for cover as another pair of plasma bolts flew in, striking the stairs directly in front of the stargate that led up to the control room.

Major Blanton rushed to a firing position as he saw the shadow of the vessel cover the open window as Lieutenant Holden began recovering, dragging herself down the stairs as the Colonial gunner did the same on the opposite side. Then a purple vial was thrown into the room where it shattered open and then a green one was thrown onto that, once the liquid inside made contact after the bottle shattered a white smoke cloud began billowing up to obscure the room.

Then, figures started rushing into the room, firing from raised arms at the defenders. Swarms of small plasma bolts hit all around at their targets as the enemy rushed forward with little regard for their own safety or the possibility of ambush or close combat. Rifle fire roared back at them, cutting down several of them instantly as others leapt over their falling bodies at full sprints, firing at the flashes they saw. A Colonial gunner on the balcony to the left of the gate was strike almost immediately as he was in the open.

His body fell to the ground and then the fire was redirected towards the control room, where Hailey and Cruzii were. Both dove to the ground, grasping at their weapons as the flurry of plasma rounds hit the ceiling and railings and the consoles themselves, but not damaging anything with their low-yield power. But the old Ancient glass was shattering, and Cruzii, as an instinct wrapped an arm around Hailey. However she shoved him off and grabbed her tablet and continued working, knowing that they needed to get the city operational.

By now bodies were falling left and right from the defenders' firepower. But now the fight was getting rather sporty. Major Blanton no sooner emptied his magazine into a rushing hooded attacker than one jumped up at him after leaping off of one of the light fixtures in the stairs he was taking cover behind. This was a mistake on the enemy's part.

Blanton grabbed at the outstretched leg as he turned to the left and let the hostile land with his knee above his shoulder and his left and right hand holding his calf like an axe handle. And once there, in the blink of an eye Blanton swung the man's body like an axe or sledgehammer into the floor, where his head connected with a lethal blow.

Next to him the Colonial Major fired a burst at point blank into the chest of an opponent but as he turned to fire again at another the man he was aiming at ripped the barrel up and jammed his weapon arm into the Colonial's chest and fired, sending three plasma bolts through and through. A shot the head from Colonel Black prevented the enemy from taking any more lives as he faced his own close-in fight.

An opponent wielding a long knife rushed him and swung at him. The first slash Black ducked under to the left, the second he dodged to the right, releasing his carbine he grabbed his combat knife in his left hand and his pistol in the right. As the man attacked with a third right-handed slice Black reached up with his blade held reverse and stepped into the attack, letting the man's forearm sink itself onto his knife and as the man screamed in pain Black pulled his pistol up and pushed back as he fired three rounds into his lower chest.

From his right another hostile charged with knife and plasma repeater brought to bear. He fired a wild burst that Black ducked under and swung his blade at his head. But Black ducked and spun as he swung his leg up and caught the guy's neck in the crook in his knee and with the force of the move swung him into the ground and placed his pistol barrel in in between his eyes and fired.

Three hostiles fell to a sweeping fire from Lieutenant Gibson's SAW as he continued mowing down several hostiles pouring in from the balcony. But that gave Sergeant Bradley, who held one of the Colonials' rocket launchers, an opening.

"Cover me!" the deep voiced NCO ordered sharply as he pulled out the long missile launcher and held it in both hands.

Gibson rushed out, firing another burst along with the recovered Colonial gunner who laid onto the trigger and poured fire into the door to their right where several hostiles had come barreling through, only to meet lead.

Bradley charged forward, seeing one of the enemy charging him with his arm brought to bear out of the corner of his eye. But as soon as he saw him a puff of red popped out of his coat and he collapsed and Bradley saw the green form of Lieutenant Holden aiming her rifle at where the man had once been. Nodding he turned his powerful rocket launcher on the shape of the enemy craft.

"Rocket!"

He pulled the trigger and the millisecond between the bang of the rocket going out and the impact of it against the Tel'tak's hull seemed to mesh into one instant explosion. The craft twisted away, on fire and trailing thick oily smoke as lost altitude and went into a death spin, crashing into the water without being seen by anyone.

With a pair of grenades tossed outside on the balcony by Gibson and a pair of Colonials the room was secure, with the bodies of over twenty enemy combatants laying in pools of blood along with at least three Colonials.

"You guys good up there?" Blanton asked.

"We're good!" Cruzii declared, but didn't check his surroundings before he said that.

In the messy, chaotic firefight, one black-cloaked hostile had gotten past the troops below, and up the stairs. He now charged at Hailey who was on her knees, getting up. But Cruzii, hearing the steps, saw him. Rising from his kneeling position he grabbed the man's arm with his right hand and gave a nasty left cross across the attacker's jaw. They both dropped to the ground, black writhing around on top of black, as they wrestled for a killing blow.

Hailey rushed over, rifle pointed at the two, trying to get a shot that wouldn't harm Cruzii. After waiting a couple seconds she stopped and then remembered something. She was carrying a Zat, so she pulled that out and nonchalantly fired it into the two of them. Both cried out in pain, but the hostile got the full blow of it, and rolled off, clenched up in pain until Hailey fired again, killing him.

"What the frak was that?!" Cruzii demanded to know, shaking from the pain.

"Zat gun," Hailey responded, deactivating it and returning it to its holster, "Back to work."

* * *

O'Neill led the way forward, M-501 locked and loaded. He could see that the power was on and that there was a great deal of fighting going on in spurts of activity that echoed through the empty halls. Occasionally the group came across signs of the enemy's presence, opened and flung about Colonial equipment, papers, and sometimes, a few bodies.

They'd seen only one body that had belonged to their enemy, and this was all he needed to break down the hostiles' capabilities. Plasma Repeaters, nasty Gou'ald era weapons that had proven time and again to be the equal of most submachine guns and pistols, the body they'd found also had a stun grenade, which could be an issue in the cramped indoor conditions that they were in. But their foe was unarmored, without technology, and now, without darkness.

As the team moved to a balcony with a dome of glass going up and down, facing out they could hear something below them.

"Hold it here," O'Neill ordered, getting nods from the unit who kneeled down against the wall, watching carefully around them in all directions.

O'Neill himself started crawling on his knees towards the entrance to the long curved railing over an old open courtyard twenty feet below. There were old inactive fountains, ancient furniture, décor, and other such niceties being examined for treasures by a gaggle of a dozen enemy soldiers. Their faces were entirely hidden, but the weapons he could see were the same as the one body they had found. There was a circle staircase against the glass that he could make out another four enemy troops starting to ascend that connected with their own, and he ducked back out of sight once his recon was complete.

"Okay, we've got sixteen hostiles," he stated plainly, "Newbold, SAW, and you..." he pointed at the other Colonial SAW gunner clenching his teeth trying to remember his name, "Guy whose name escapes me, take positions."

"Guy whose name escapes me?" Major Rosario chuckled as they got into position.

"What? We only just met," O'Neill quipped with a characteristic smirk.

"Okay that's fair enough sir," the Colonial responded over his shoulder, "Don't worry about it."

"We've got other things to worry about boss," Pauley reminded him, "What's the plan sir?"

"Okay, first thing, grenades, then you two lay down as much suppressive fire as you can," O'Neill began, "Pauley, take your team and sprint across, I want full crossfire on the ground floor, you guys," O'Neil pointed to the last three Colonials, "One of you with me, the other two on rear guard. We're heading to the opposite hall, and once there nothing gets past us. We're going across first, try and draw fire."

"Roger that sir."

"Gonna get loud, they've got buddies around and they're gonna come running, watch for reinforcements," Pauley advised everyone.

"Make your shots count, no misses," Rosario impressed on every one of them.

Right as O'Neill was about to say something a sudden boom shook the building and a shadow fell over the building as a roar of gunfire from outside reached their ears. After a moment the fire subsided slightly, only for a loud bang to sound out. The shadow above them fell away, and O'Neill looked up to see a Tel'tak spinning wildly out of control with fire and smoke belching from a hole in its side. The vehicle crashed in between the piers in front of them.

"That's it!" one of the Colonials could be heard whispering in joy at the victory.

But their joy was short-lived, a yellow light fell from the sky, blasting a cloud of smoke and fire into the air where a Colonial CIWS turret and its accompanying equipment were dug in. The warbling noise of heavy incoming plasma cannon fire sent shivers down O'Neill's spine as more explosions sounded off in the distance. Then, a trio of Death Gliders swooped by in the near distance, their ground troops below him cheering their comrades' arrival.

"Oh shit…" O'Neill hissed, "Their buddies have decided to join the party."

"That was our anti-aircraft net wasn't it?" the Colonial officer, Lieutenant Bragg, sighed sadly.

"Hopefully your people got out of the way, but your guns and missiles, no such luck," Pauley sighed.

"Frak, why can't we get any of the good shit?!" a Colonial sergeant hissed under his breath.

"This fight's not over," O'Neill ordered, "come on."

He crept out of the hall entrance, circling back away from the edge to not be seen at a low run. Everyone else followed him out, taking their positions as ordered. Once checking to be sure the hallway was clear O'Neill decided he needed to express a little rage for the enemy still cheering like fans of a team for their air support. He walked out and signaled with a hand motion for everyone to move forward. Aiming his rifle down at a single man standing on a fountain wall he dialed in the target.

But before he could do that, an orange flash in the reflective tile caught his eye. But the flash was then replaced by the blurred but still visible image of an orange glow, growing larger. Curious, he looked up, and saw it.

"Oh…my…" he barely managed to get out as he realized what it was.

The entire assembly, Earth, Colonial, and hostile included, all turned their heads skyward. The cheering of the enemy died down, and the Colonials all began beaming in great big smiles as they saw what was falling towards the planet surface.

"You crazy…" someone whispered in awe, and he was right.

What they were seeing was a Colonial Battlestar, having jumped into the atmosphere of Kobol it was now plummeting downwards, gaining speed, orange flames of massive amounts of friction causing it glow with a contrail following its massive bulk like a comet. O'Neill had heard the rumors of what Battlestars could do, but never would he, or any rational being for that matter, even consider jumping into a planet's atmosphere! Yet, some crazy Colonial commander decided to ignore what everyone else decided might be the most logical course of action and substituted it with something that walked a fine line between genius and suicide.

Small dots burst from the flight pods as the Battlestar dropped further, dozens and dozens of them. These he recognized as Vipers, and was very happy to see those fighters come out like an angry swarm, here to protect their ancestral homeworld. His awe was replaced with downright panic as he realized that the Battlestar was now getting a little too close to the ground, dropping closer, and closer, and closer. The friction flames he could now pick out the individual textures of, and was mouthing the word, jump, over and over again.

As said that a sudden flash and the shape of the Battlestar was gone, replaced by a hollow ball of flame that was sucked back into the massive void. The entire building shook after a moment as the shockwave hit the city, and the reality dawned on them; this fight was only beginning. This was drilled into them as Vipers flew overhead, chasing Death Gliders with guns blazing.

Smiles plastered the faces of the ground team at their own air support arriving on scene, and so they turned their attention back to their opponents below. O'Neill was the first to speak.

"Didn't see that comin' did ya?" he hollered, causing the whole assembly to turn at him and look up to see themselves in a bad spot.

This didn't stop them from raising their weapons however, and the team opened fire. After a loud tearing roar of gunfire the entire force in the courtyards fell dead, all too easy.

"Alright, let's go find some more!"

**I think I'll pick up the rest of the fight in the next chapter, this one was getting rather long. Hope you enjoyed this one as much as I did. And see if you can spot an SG-1 Easter Egg I put in this chapter (What was the quote and from what episode of SG-1?). It was kind of a tribute and it seemed to fit. As usual leave your thoughts and whatever else you want to say in a review, let me know what you thought, and I'll see you next time.**

**Next Chapter Preview: The fighting continues, and things go wrong. Just another day in paradise.**


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Location: Battlestar Galactica, In Freefall

Date: February 25, 2025

Time: 0935

"Well, this oughta be different," Lee said calmly as he gave a thumbs-up to the catapult director.

Immediately after that he was shoved back into his seat as his Viper was flung forward. He could see a hot orange glow in front of his as the atmosphere the Galactica fell through was burning hot outside it. He knew there were dozens of other Vipers already launched with a hundred more behind him. As the rumbling Viper accelerated he punched his engine, and gripped his controls.

The Viper exploded out of the launch tube, rumbling rapidly as the air buffeted the Viper roughly. Lee dove for airspeed and control over his Mk. VIII. He saw the orange flames die away immediately, and he could see the green, fog-enshrouded, highlands and mountains of Kobol below his. Other Vipers flew in the same manner, trying to file out into formations. He glanced down at his DRADIS as her airspeed got into combat speed and saw it come to life, green Vipers around the scanner along with red unknowns, although he knew that these were hostile.

"All Vipers, let's clean house, secure the airspace," Lee spoke up through his comms as he looked around, and saw a duo of Death Gliders below his Viper and dove on them.

He went inverted, rolling and diving as he jerked back, bringing his gunsight on target, the pipper coming into view. When his gunsight was on the pipper he pulled the trigger, and sent heavy cannon shells right at the wingman. The enemy fighters had no clue and only figured it out when the wingman's right wing was cut off. He noted the kill, more for intelligence purposes than personal numbers.

As soon as the first one was shot down the second was sent running. It banked left, and Lee saw the looming towers of the fog covered Olympus. He paused for a split second in admiration, but then the sight of smoke all around the outer rings and a column from within the city snapped him back into the battle. Lee swung over in hot pursuit of the Glider, waiting for the craft to clear the city, so he didn't damage any of the buildings.

As he did this he noted that Galactica had jumped, and winced at the possibility of the Galactica by itself against much superior vessels, at least until the rest of the fleet arrived. However he had to stay in the moment, in-atmosphere dogfighting held a different set of dangers than the normal space-based combat that fleet-based Viper pilots were used to. Low-level flight always held risks, and he had to stay in the mindset he needed to.

"Apollo break! Break! Break!" he heard Starbuck yell, "Hostile fighter diving on you!"

Lee pulled hard on the stick and jerked his bird right, and saw the globs of golden plasma zip past his canopy. He caught sight of three Death Gliders, and one of them exploded as a missile came from in front of the nose of his Viper after slamming into the nose of the craft. Then Lee whirled his head around as he heard a whooping yell from the one and only Starbuck. The popping of the tennis ball-sized cannon shells roared past his canopy and then the dart-like Viper flown by the blonde pilot roared right on past as well, tearing a second fighter into pieces as she tore past them.

"You are insane!" Lee yelled, knowing how close she'd come to having collided with_ all_ of them.

Righting his Viper he banked hard, and saw a pair of Vipers to his upper right recognizing the tail marks as two new pilots. They were flying in a straight line, up high, a very big no-no. Before he could yell out to them a plasma bolt slammed into the middle of the nose and sent it flying up and then plummeting.

"Blackout's hit! Blackout's-," the wingman yelled before screaming into the comm another bolt from the clouds blasted into their engines and the Viper dropped down on fire.

"Eject! Eject!" Lee desperately ordered as he banked towards the source of the fire, the clouds.

Neither of the two Viper pilots managed to eject.

"We're with you Apollo," another pair of Vipers answered the challenge, pulling into formation with him, their markers easily visible on his HUD.

"Watch your spacing you two!" Lee warned, looking at how close they were to his wingtips.

As soon he looked back the clouds burst open with a large triangular, disc shaped craft, an Alkesh. The gunship fired at them, claiming another one of the Vipers to his right before Lee could pull the trigger, blasting away the left wing. The Alkesh barreled towards him, and his eyes widened as he yanked at his controls, activating his emergency thrusters on his nose and below his engines and held on.

His Viper bucked hard, the nose diving down and the tail bucking upwards hard. He laid onto the trigger, firing his weapons into the Alkesh, but it didn't do too much. He managed to regain control of his fighter as the Alkesh dove towards the city, firing at several Vipers, not hitting any of them fortunately. Lee accelerated towards it, climbing above and then dove at it, firing his guns at the craft and began locking his missiles. Black smoke began pouring from the engines and the craft shook from his punishing rounds.

"Die frakker!" he yelled as he fired two missiles the moment he heard the warbling of the missile lock.

The two Archers lanced out and slammed into the top and rear. Two big holes blew open the rear of the craft and it began crashing to the ground, but in this case the ground below it was the city itself. The craft began spinning and coming apart. Lee saw the destination of the crashing ship, and knew that this would not end well.

"Olympus! You have a hostile ship on a collision course!"

Location: City Ship Olympus

"Olympus! You have a hostile ship on a collision course!"

"Oh frak," Colonel Black hissed as he saw the black smoke trail coming right at the city, "You two better hurry up!"

"Not ready!" Cruzii yelled back.

"Oh this won't end well," Sergeant Bradley groaned he looked out at the smoking Alkesh.

As they watched other Vipers opened fire, slamming missiles into the craft, splintering off small and medium-sized pieces. The wireless was absolutely alive with the Galactica's pilots desperately trying to stop the craft, seeing as the anti-aircraft batteries were silent or cratered. But it did very little good. The wreckage was going to slam into the gathering of buildings at the end of one of the piers.

"Brace!" Major Blanton yelled.

The first piece to collide with the city was the biggest. It slammed into the pier, not the towers, a smoke cloud obscuring the fireball within it. Several smaller pieces crashed into the windows and buildings around it along with numerous splashes in the water to show just how badly the Galactica's pilots had mauled it. Black smoke rose from the buildings where the fires burned, and immediately the thoughts began turning into words.

"Frak! Were there people out there?" Colonel Black yelled.

"No idea Colonel," a young lieutenant responded, his eyes wide with fear at the turn of events.

"Well frakking get your radio and have everyone check in!" Black roared at the man, "Frak!"

"Oh God," Hailey gasped, looking out at the sight, "Two of the shield generators are out there!"

"Worse," Cruzii interrupted, grabbing a pair of binoculars from off of a table, looking out at the pier, specifically the edges, "That wreckage just punctured a lot of the floats holding up that section of the city."

"Can it hold?" Blanton asked.

"No idea," he responded, "But we need to get over there and check those shield generators."

"Alright," Blanton nodded, "Colonel."

"I agree, Captain, how much longer do you need?" he asked up to Hailey.

"The systems are purged, just a matter of installing the systems and their support systems and their failsafes, protocols, and several more things but it can be done by the others in the power room."

"Alright, Colonel, I'll take one of mine if you want to lend me two of yours," Blanton asked.

"Right, Bradley, take Emerick," Black ordered, "Doc, you go with them."

"I was gonna ask but you answered it," Cruzii smirked as he stood up.

As the two techies walked down Black grabbed Cruzii by the best forcefully, stopping him in his tracks.

"Keep an eye on what she does," he whispered, "Memorize it, I want to know everything that they're doing as best we can."

"Already done, I wasn't purging the systems, I was recording their download of the city's systems."

Black was taken back, but he understood the importance of it, and the fact he hadn't been caught was even more impressive. The Earth technical officer Cruzii was shadowing was not just a piece of ass to him, Cruzii was learning, watching everything she was doing.

"Good, don't let her out of your sight," Black ordered, "We might be fighting together, but I don't completely trust them."

"I'm sure the feeling's mutual."

Location: Battlestar Galactica

"Jump completed!" Gaeta called out, "DRADIS contact! Identified, twenty-nine hostile warships."

"Twenty-nine," Adama gasped, looking at the DRADIS board, "We can't take twenty-nine."

"Bill, the fleet'll be jumping opposite in moments," Tigh reminded him, "We're well outside their engagement range, at least what we think it their engagement range."

"We need to buy time, navigation, plot short range jump, three hundred thousand kilometers back, charge magnetic cannons! Lay in a full concentrated volley on the lead ship. Full power to the bow degaussing field," Adama called out, "Launch Vipers!"

On that order nearly two hundred Vipers were launched from their launch tubes. They quickly forme a screen, well out of the way of what was coming out after them. Out of the four launch bays came the forty-eight Raptors the Galactica's flight crews had armed to the teeth, tip-mounted gatling guns, top-mounted missile pods, and two nuclear missiles on their underbellies. They didn't have all of their Viper escorts, having launched all but an emergency contingent of forty-eight birds. However the plan was that they wouldn't need them, the Vipers on the planet below would draw off the bulk of the enemy's fighter cover and let the massive nuclear-laden waves of Raptors to fire at will.

"All squadrons ready," Dee called out.

"All batteries answer ready, magnetic cannons laid in," Tigh informed him, "They're in range."

"Raptors wave one, nuclear salvo execute," Adama ordered with his classic even tone.

"Wave one, fire," Dee relayed.

Eight of the lead Raptors fired their two nuclear missiles in one massive wave of fire. All sixteen missiles dropped from the racks, ignited their motors and sped forward. The lead Hat'ak came forward, knowing that it was the target. The others stayed in formation, unaware of the impending trap. The nukes zeroed in, ready to detonate.

"Long range ripple fire, magnetic cannons execute," Adama ordered now, his calculations of hitting with an overwhelming amount of firepower hitting their timers.

"Fire."

The ship shook as the first large projectile was ejected at its extremely high velocity. The Viper-length dart projectiles moved at a fraction of the speed of light, covering the distance almost instantly. And as the first hit the second was fired, in very close succession.

As the second shot left the port tube the first slammed into the shield of the first Hat'ak, causing it to stutter in place. The second one struck in the same place, right behind the first as a third shot was fired from the bow of the Galactica. The third round hit with enough force that the Hat'ak's shield began to fluctuate as its shields tried recovering and focusing their remaining energy onto the same place as they were getting hit, but their power generators were not able to handle it, and other parts of the shield suffered. Unfortunately the weakness was enough that the poor quality of the ships forced the overworked system to try and push more energy than it had to the parts it was draining. This all happened as sixteen nuclear missiles struck the shield one last time.

In a series of brilliant flashes the line of missiles pounded the shield, stressing it, and at the thirteenth missile impact broke it. The following missiles detonated against the ship's armor, blowing the Hat'ak apart, sending pieces of its hull against the shields of its sisters.

"Target destroyed sir!" Gaeta proudly proclaimed.

A cheer sounded out on board the Galactica's bridge, but Adama quickly ended it.

"That's one out of nearly thirty," he stated, "Charge magnetic guns, target the next closest ship. Hopefully this works," he mumbled to himself as he looked at the command table in front of him, the images of the enemy fleet getting closer and opening a bigger and bigger gap between them and the planet.

"If they have to strengthen their shields in a direction then this should work," Tigh declared.

"Time on the fleet jump?"

"Fifteen seconds sir,"

"They're getting in range," Adama noted, the circles around the enemy ships denoting the ranges that the previous engagement had recorded them to be firing from approached the Galactica.

"Hostile ships are firing!" a Viper pilot called out.

"Evasive maneuvers," Adama ordered, "Flank speed, steer zero-four-five, twenty degrees down. All batteries open fire, focus on the closest enemy ship."

The Galactica's powerful steering thrusters sent her nose diving at the order. Her engine pods burst into life, and her Vipers and Raptors kept in loose formation around her. The first shots missed, flying through the formations of Vipers and Raptors without striking any of them. And Galactica's main battery answered, firing in rapid succession with their armor piercing warheads. Many dozens of twin projectiles screamed outwards, aiming at the enemy ship that was now in the lead. Other such plasma rounds were fired after the initial volley, and Adama ordered another turn.

"Reverse your turn, starboard thrusters, keep our guns on target."

"Aye sir."

"Sir, jump timer has expired," another bridge officer called out.

"Here they come," Tigh hopefully declared.

On that signal a fleet of Battlestars jumped into orbit, well behind the enemy fleet. The IFF's on twelve Battlestars came up immediately, followed by those of twenty-eight cruisers and forty-nine destroyers. Upon their jump the fleet made rapid tidying maneuvers to free up the firing lanes of the larger cruisers and Battlestars. Each was equipped with magnetic cannons, but only the Battlestars had the full-sized versions, and the cruisers had smaller versions, each being roughly half the size of the Battlestars' rounds. The destroyers didn't have any at all.

But that didn't stop them, and so they had jumped, ready to fire. The magnetic gun carrying warships had a very simple set of instructions, focus fire, ship by ship until the target was destroyed and then switch to a new target, and continue the process. Nuclear missiles were launched en masse from the silos of the destroyers. The thick gray contrails were led by the orange flames of the large ship-to-ship weapons, and flew forward. The range was longer to them than even the Galactica had started out, but the destroyers had been ordered to choose their own targets and focus the firepower of ten seven ships' missiles each at the advanced enemy vessels.

However the volleys from the ripple-firing Battlestars fired first. The big guns of the four-barrel Mercury class and the twin-barrel Valkyrie class did their jobs as designed. The Mercuries fired first, unleashing their shots one by one in rapid succession. The closest Hat'ak felt these blows to its weakened rear shields, with the fourth shot fracturing them and letting through high velocity shrapnel that punched through, tearing open holes in the hull. A fifth shot from another Mercury ripped the ship's golden pyramid open right above the joining outer segments. The ship quickly started dying, and the Colonial ships switched targets.

Their volleys were impacting with the force of many nuclear missiles, their ultra-dense projectiles' weights slamming into shields at extreme velocities, fracturing and breaking the shields of two more motherships, which died upon the next shot. But it took the cruisers many more shots to accomplish the same task, a dozen shots from the cruisers hammered the enemy shields of a third Hat'ak before it too fell to the fire of a lucky shot from a heavy cruiser. By now the nuclear barrage had reached the enemy fleet, now in chaos.

Nuclear fire coated the spreading ships, some now firing in reflex to the sudden attack on their rear, while three of their number continued after Galactica. But now the Galactica was not far enough away to dodge the fire coming at it.

One by one shots started getting through, and the degaussing field was forced to prove its mettle. The plasma hit the powerful magnetic field, its electrons and ions finding the paths created by the powerful generators of the brand new warship and conformed to them, but the inner high density core of plasma was not so easily burned off. Strings of the less cooperative projectile sliced through, hitting the hardened armor, splashing across its face to different resulting effects. Most hit and instantly cooled, burning their way through the upper layers to no damaging purpose other than heating up the interior below them rather noticeably. A very few others where a confluence of fields occurred did more damage.

"Breach on Deck Twelve, automatically sealed, fires reported on Decks Thirteen and Eleven around the impact. Fire suppression system is not responding in those sections."

"Damage control parties, evacuate those sections and vent," Tigh ordered, taking over damage control.

"Sir, two destroyers report hits," Dee called out, "They can't take the punishment Admiral."

"Order the capital ships to split fire and target two ships at a time and order destroyers to take emergency maneuvers. Helm, bring us to fire on one of these bastards, Raptor wave two and three fire!" Adama responded.

"We need to get those Vipers into the fight Bill, they're no good to us in formation," Tigh said.

"If they get caught in those radiation blasts they won't be worth a damn at all," Adama cut him off, "Keep firing."

"Sir their fire is incredibly inaccurate," an officer called out, noticing a trend, "They're trying to close the gap with us to get hits in."

"Very well, cut main engine pods at the turn."

"Can the engines take that kind of extreme acceleration sir?" Gaeta asked.

"They'll have to."

The ship kicked upwards, the blue fiery thrusters dying out as their fuel supply was cut away, stopping them from bringing them any closer to their enemy. But the directional thrusters aimed the bow cannons right onto their target, causing the Galactica to start drifting down, her bow like an arrow pointed at the lead Hat'ak.

"Simultaneous volley fire, execute."

All three cannons fired at once, three parallel darts slamming into the shield of the Hat'ak in front of them. The force shattered the weakened shield, but the shots didn't get through. But the waves of nukes did, and blew the ship apart and vaporized most of it, kill two for the Galactica.

Hat'ak Flagship

"Milord, another ship lost!" the helmsman called out in a panic, eyes wide with fear.

"They're tearing us apart sire, we have to withdraw!" one of his highest ranking generals pleaded.

"All ships, assume line formation aimed at the planet," the king ordered, still seated at his throne, "We'll go where they can't."

"But their fleet sire!"

"Once in the atmosphere they won't be able to use their most powerful weapons, that planet means too much to them."

His smile was formed with the knowledge that the Colonials had proven how much they treasured this place. When a single Alkesh had been lost in the dogfight over the city the reports had been clear. The Colonial Vipers had focused their firepower upon the falling craft before it could slam into the great floating city. They would risk themselves to protect this place, so he was going to use the planet and all it signified as a shield.

The fleet gathered in a messy line, providing a very slim target profile, and aimed right at the Colonial formation, gathered and firing at his ships. Nuclear blasts shook the ship and bathed the shields in heat and radiation that they fought away easily enough, but the hypervelocity rounds were another matter. While their manually targeted plasma rounds found trouble at long range the Colonials were more than willing to slug it out at ranges that his gunners would miss most shots. But they'd landed hits at close range, destroying two of the Colonial destroyers and damaging several light cruisers.

"Forward through their formation, fire at the closest ships," the armored king ordered, "Destroy as many as you can."

At that command the great fleet charged.

Battlestar Galactica

"Enemy is charging the fleet."

"Pursuit course, charge main guns," Adama quickly ordered, "Tell the fleet to keep their distance, jump if they have to. Can't risk losing any more ships this far from home."

"They're gonna close the gap," Tigh growled, "If they get in under the guns…"

"We'll be torn to shreds," Adama finished for him, "This is what we were thinking might happen."

"That's why the Battlestars have two jump drives, but the escorts don't have that luxury, if they jump it'll be several hours until they're ready to jump again after jumping twice in such close intervals," Tigh shook his head.

"No one ever said this was going to be easy."

Another series of shots fired from the Colonial fleet, blowing apart the shields of the lead Hat'ak, which shattered from three cruisers blasting it. The shots traveled through, but the wreckage continued forward, acting like a shield, a cold-hearted calculation by the enemy fleet commander. As the fleet closed the Colonial gun batteries opened fire, sending slugs smashing against the shields, mostly harmless even in such cloud-forming numbers.

They returned fire, smashing into the magnetic fields of the Battlestars, damaging them lightly, but the cruisers and destroyers faired rather poorly as the fleet began jumping. Three destroyers suffered direct hits that effectively put them out of the fight, blasting open gouging holes that their magnetic fields and weaker armor couldn't handle. Two cruisers were also hit, but jumped away after suffering critical damage. As the enemy closed the Battlestars gave the order for their escorts to jump, they themselves staying to cover them.

In waves of flashes the Colonial ships jumped, leaving an open corridor that the enemy dove through, firing as they went. Numerous plasma shots cut into the flank of the Battlestar Acheron, blowing open one of her flight pods' landing bays and critically damaging two of her port engines. But the guns of the big ship continued firing.

The other Battlestars, themselves the only remaining combatants, turned to give chase. But they were just too slow, and their escorting Raptors and Vipers couldn't loose any nukes, or else kill each other in the radiation wave. But it was enough that the enemy didn't try pressing their advantage, having had enough of the Battlestars' firepower for the moment.

"Sir, they're not circling back," Gaeta informed the Admiral, who himself could clearly see it for himself.

"No, they're aiming for the planet, they know that we can't risk firing our magnetic cannons at the planet," he noted.

"And we sure as frak can't nuke Kobol," Tigh sneered, unhappy with the cowardly half-retreat of their enemies.

"Vipers and Raptors are all we've got," Adama sighed, "Recall all birds, order all bombs and conventional anti-ship missiles be loaded onto as many birds as we can."

"Pass the word sir?"

"Yes, all Battlestars are to recall whatever they've launched and to arm them with conventional anti-ship munitions and bombs," Adama ordered, "And send a runner Raptor back to the rally point to have the escorts return as soon as possible and bring in the Marinestars, we'll need all the birds we can get."

As the orders were passed along a new DRADIS contact came up on their scanners.

"DRADIS contacts! Bearing one-nine-zero, karom zero-three-zero, distance fifty thousand kilometers."

"Identify," Tigh ordered, but didn't get a response, as the operator was in shock at what he was seeing, "Dammit ensign I gave you an order."

"Saul," Adama interrupted him, pointing at the IFF's that came up as the Galactica's sensors classified what they were seeing.

He walked over, and looked down at what the scanners were saying had jumped into the system. What he saw made him hunch over and take a closer look. He saw nine different ship signatures, only one of which was not identified.

"Earth ships?"

"They have a habit of making themselves known when things get nasty," Adama stated as the Earth squadron accelerated and began covering ground on the enemy fleet.

"Sir, several Battlestars are asking for instructions, the Earth ships are closing fast."

"Hold fire, do not engage," Adama replied instantly, "Safe to say they're on our side for a change."

"They're launching fighters!"

"Sir, the hostile fleet is turning to face the Earth ships."

"This'll be interesting," Tigh noted.

"Let's see what they've got."

As a unit all but one of the Hat'aks faced the Earth ships, the other diving into the atmosphere where the most powerful weapons of the Colonials were not going to be employed. However the enemy fleet found itself staring down the muzzle at a formation of Banshees screening a line of Mohican gunships. At a prearranged signal the Banshees broke away, clearing the Mohicans' firing line. A volley of missiles was fired immediately, each targeted on one specific mothership. The missiles flew straight and true, and the Colonials could only watch as the missiles seemed to just disappear all of a sudden once they were close to the enemy ships, having activated the preset hyperdrives in their fuselage.

"What?" Adama asked, but then his question was answered when each ship was blown apart, flashing from within with the power of a nuclear explosion within the ships themselves.

"The frak…" Tigh breathed uneasily.

"I thought I'd seen everything," Adama chuckled.

"Sir, there's still one ship moving towards the surface."

Hearing that report Adama scrolled the screen to see the ship in the atmosphere, hovering over the landscape, staying close to the ground, the Vipers they'd launched in the atmosphere steering clear of it. Around it other smaller craft, Troop Transports fell in behind it. It was headed straight for Olympus.

"Get those Vipers back aboard and re-armed now!"

City Ship Olympus

"We've got incoming," the radio called out in Agent Fraser's ear.

"Where?" Fraser asked, standing up and moving down the hall to a window, "Nevermind."

Above him the shadow of a Hat'ak hovered overhead, moving slowly into position over the city. The Vipers had all gone, knowing they couldn't do anything to harm it. But several smaller craft passed them, and began coming down outside the window onto the piers and level parts of the city.

"Troopships," Colonel Black called out, "Seven of them. We're in for it now."

ZPM Power Room

"Shit," Fraser snarled, looking out at one that had landed just beyond the group of towers in the center of the city, and knew that there were bound to be enemy troops coming for them now.

"What?" Brenda called out, running over to the window where Fraser stood, and saw the troopship landing, "Oh come on! Guys! Get that shield up!"

As she said that a golden plasma blast blew the glass away and sent both of them flying backwards, sprawling out onto the ground. Fraser registered what had happened rather quickly, a shot had landed against the bottom of the window, missing them but the concussion had blown them both off of their feet. Pieces of glass had cut into his face, only scratches, and he felt his right had been cut as well.

"Gods…dammit," he gritted through clenched teeth, seeing a piece of glass in his palm the width of his finger and yanked it out, quickly wrapping a length of his black bandana around it.

"You okay?" Brenda asked, trying to get to her feet.

"Yeah, you?" he asked in return, looking at her and saw she had a cut on her cheek, but not much else.

"I'm fine," she said, shaking her head, "Thank God for this armor."

To accentuate her point she pulled a dagger of glass from a pocket on her chest where it had lodged itself, poking her finger through the hole. As she got to her feet a blue energy bolt sliced through the air next to her and she had to duck. Fraser got to a knee and saw that there was a large group of hostiles pushing through an alley on the main deck of the outside, firing blue and orange projectiles at them. He brought his carbine to his shoulder and aimed at the advancing soldiers.

He hesitated when he first saw them, noting that their attire was not at all what someone with energy weapons and space warships should have worn. They each had on chain mail armor with a yellow cloth jerkin that reached down to their knees. All of them had on barbute style helmets, of varying designs but basically the same style. They each had a silver symbol on their chests that he didn't quite get a good look at, but then again, he needed to just shoot them.

"We've got hostiles pushing up on us from outside," Fraser called out, squeezing the trigger.

He sent armor piercing rounds downrange, more than a hundred yards away. But he had the range, and the enemy soldiers started falling one by one as he picked them off. They all immediately gravitated to cover, two more falling to fire from his carbine's long range fire. However he was the only one firing, Brenda had scooted over against the wall opposite of him as return fire came at them randomly.

"You're gonna have to shoot back," he yelled out to her.

"I've never shot at anybody before!" she cried out, flinching as he fired again, but had to duck back as another energy blast ripped by him and hit the wall.

"Well they're shooting at you now," Fraser responded, "Now's the time to use that."

He pointed at her P90, and she grasped it, and scooted over to the edge and peaked at them.

"Oh God there's over a hundred!" she yelled, seeing the gathering of them now rushing forward, this time with large shields in front of them.

"Then shoot them!"

She poked her P90 out from around the corner and immediately opened fire, the kick of the weapon causing the barrel to climb. She wasn't a soldier, she was a politician, a civilian, someone who had no business being in a fight like this, but she was still here. However soldier or not the bullets didn't care, and hit the wall of shields now moving forward, penetrating them easily, and wounding the men behind them, causing the closely gathered formation to start stumbling, but they sprinted forward anyway. There were just too many.

"Colonel! We need some help here!" she yelled out into her own radio, "We've got a ton of these guys coming right at us!"

As she said that there was an explosion below them, two floors down, which shook the floor slightly. They then heard the yelling and heavy footfalls of their attacks below them. The building was breached, things were really starting to get testy now. Two more Colonial guards that had already been there rushed over along with Dr. Tew, the Earth team's medical assistant.

"Doc?!" she yelled.

"No time to argue with morals," he shrugged, moving over to her.

"Okay, you two, this window," Fraser ordered the two Earthers, and then to his own men, "You two with me."

The other two Colonials nodded and Fraser led them down the stairs to the floor in between them and the ground floor. However as they got there the enemy was running up below them as they got to the halfway point. Fraser caught sight of the first of the enemy and leveled his weapon and fired a trio of bullets into the first individual who fell and then laid onto the trigger and emptied his mag into the gaggle charging up. Strafing to the left as he got to the next floor the other two fired as well, one trying to follow him, but a blue blast struck him in the chest and he went sprawling backwards. The other man tried rushing to his aide but got hit in the side, laying out onto the landing and screamed in pain as he tried putting pressure onto the wound.

Fraser snarled at the shot from below, and ripped out a grenade and pulled the pin as he yanked out his pistol. Running forward he saw two of the enemy run up the stairs, but he was on top of them before they could get their long staff weapons onto him. The one in behind the closer one was to the right of him, and Fraser charged them both, sprinting at full speed. He jumped into the air, pulling his legs up and grabbed the first man with his left arm and fell down. At the same time he was driven forward by his momentum, and with that he kicked the second man through a window while he fell with the chainmail armored foe struggling in his headlock.

"Frag out!"

With his right hand he chucked the grenade right down the stairs, where he saw dozens of enemy troops rushing and crowding in, trying to get up and at he and the others. There were several enemy troops rushing up the stairs at him, and they leveled their weapons at him. But a tearing sound of SMG fire beat them to it, and sent three of them tumbling backwards onto their comrades, who pushed them aside. But Fraser now released the helmeted man and pointed his left arm at the two leaders pushing forward, blasting them away with several shots to the chest. One particularly stubborn one charged him with the intent to stab him with the prongs on the end of his staff, but Fraser rolled to the side and blasted him in the shin and then into the crown of his head right as he hit the ground.

However before anything else happened a powerful dusty explosion tore through the ranks below him. A wave of screams announced the grenade's powerful blast had done its job and the remaining foes retreated, trying to get a grip on what was going on. With this reprieve Fraser drew his pistol back over his shoulder, poking it into the still live enemy warrior, blasting him with the last shot in his magazine.

"Nice job," he said as he saw Brenda standing there, P90 barrel smoking from the long burst she'd just fired, "Reload, they'll be back."

As he stood up he saw the Earth doctors, both of them now rushing to the aide of the two Colonials. When Dr. Lawson kneeled down next to the first guard that had been hit she placed a finger to his neck and then his wrist and instantly went into doctor mode.

"I need to get him onto a table now!" she snapped at her assistant.

"What about him?" Tew asked, referring to the other wounded man.

"His injury isn't life threatening at this moment," Lawson responded as she began cutting away the man's vest and uniform below it, revealing the injury to his lower right chest.

Tew rushed over and grabbed him under his armpits and began to lift him up, the fairly large man grunting under the weight as he lifted him off of the ground. Meanwhile Brenda covered them as Fraser helped the other man to his feet, steadying him as they went back up the stairs. Brenda reloaded her weapon, pulling out another magazine from a pouch on her chest and was about to put it in when there was a metallic groan that sounded out below and then all around the hall.

"Oh that can't be good," Brenda whispered out.

"Metal making noises never is."

"Brenda!" Dr. Underwood called out, running over to the hall as they came up the stairs to meet her, "We've got a big problem!"

"Oh no…" she responded, "What is it?"

"Well…we've gotten most of the systems up and running, as you know, but when we ran a system diagnostic we did a full maintenance scan to check to be sure nothing was damaged."

"Mike, short version please," Brenda replied, grabbing him with one hand.

"We ran a scan, there's damage in the building where one of the shield generators is located and we can't power to it, the conduits have been damaged."

"Can you fix them?"

"I don't know, the damage could be from tampering, from battle, from the water, it's just giving me a red light. This city is much older than we had originally thought, it doesn't have the same abilities as Atlantis!"

"You're telling me you can't fix it from here?!"

"I can try rerouting power through the secondary conduits, but the shield generator isn't able to operate on the amount of power those conduits can give it," Underwood said, finishing with the worst news, "Someone has to go to that generator and tweak it so it does operate."

Fraser now joined the conversation.

"I'm assuming there's another problem with that."

"Yes there is. The problem is this, those levels are beginning to flood. The city's sinking."

**Well we've seen that problem before haven't we? But never in the middle of a battle with bad guys everywhere. Let's see how this works out. **

**Now I want to get one thing clear to you guys who are going to be saying that the Hat'aks are getting nerfed. They're not. I specifically explained in a previous chapter that these are not the same quality of ships that had been built by the Gou'ald, these are copies of copies, and so their abilities are now but a shadow of what they were able to do many years ago. **

**And the degaussing fields that the Colonials are using to defend their ships is based in science, I spoke with a professor at my school and he agreed with me, this method of defense against plasma based weaponry is feasible, and could work. So I don't want to see any whining saying that the Colonials are getting too much too fast that doesn't work. Those particular concerns will not be addressed, as I am tired of having to repeat myself.**

**Now, with that out of the way I'm hoping that the action is to your liking, and I'm hopeful that we can see a new update in the near future.**

**Next Chapter Preview: How long will getting this damned shield up take? Well that depends on the temperature of the water, so not long.**

**(A cookie for the first person to get that reference.) **


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter 24

Location: City Ship Olympus, Damaged Pier

Date: February 25, 2025

Time: 01000

The transporter opened up into a hot and smoky hallway. Major Blanton and Lieutenant Newbold rushed out, kneeling down against the opposite wall, looking under the smoke clawing at the ceiling. Then two Colonials, Gunney Bradley and Sergeant Warren, came out behind them, moving down the other wall in opposite directions. Bradley had a SAW and Warren had a carbine with an underslung shotgun. They were both grizzled veterans, sent to protect Dr. Cruzii who in turn was assisting Captain Hailey.

"Clear," Blanton declared.

"Captain, Doc, let's move," Bradley said in his hoarse voice.

The two scientists came out, with Cruzii tying a bandana around his face to keep from breathing in the harsh smoke. He then grasped his personal defense weapon, checking that his safety was off. Walking out he held his weapon pointed down the hall the opposite direction as Hailey, who came out right behind him, holding a heavily padded tablet and was reading off of it.

"Underwood, systems up?"

"Yeah, we're up and running for the most part, but that power conduit's still not operating. We're getting the secondary conduits operating, but you need to tweak the generator," her radio responded.

"That'll take too long," Hailey said, shaking her head, "We'd be better served to go find the primary conduit break and repair it."

"And how do you intend to do that?" Ruby replied from her own radio.

Hailey sat in thought a moment, but then thought of it.

"Shokaku is in orbit right Major?" Hailey inquired.

"That's right," Blanton responded with a nod.

"If I can get an accurate scan of the damaged section and an undamaged section they can then use their matter synthesizer to recreate it and beam it into place," she then explained.

"Is it possible?" Newbold asked.

"It'll be tough, but with exact coordinates it can be done," Dr. Underwood responded before Hailey could say the same thing.

"Alright, let's get going."

As that was stated there was a creaking noise that reverberated through the hallway. The city was agreeing with them, it was indeed time to move. They all paused to listen and digest the implications of that noise and once it was over Major Blanton stepped forward.

"No time like the present," he yelled, "Captain, show the way forward, we need a way down."

"There's a stairwell…down the hall to the right," Hailey pointed out, moving in the direction in question, "From there we'll need to access a ladder that'll take us into the lower levels of the pier itself where we can start tracing the main power conduit to find the break."

"Very well, hopefully we can stay out of the way of any hostiles that are swarming these areas," the lead Colonial NCO agreed.

"That would be nice," Lieutenant Newbold smirked, looking down the sights of his SAW in the hallway.

As they moved and got to the stairwell they all heard the clinking and shuffling of hostiles moving towards them. The group halted as one of the Colonials moved an arm up, they all moved to the walls, ready to fire on anything that came into their field of view. The sounds kept getting louder and louder as they now heard voices, some gruff, some normal, all in a language they couldn't quite make out.

"Make for the stairs and hold fire, in this smoke they might not see us," Blanton whispered, waving them forward, leading the way.

"Go," Newbold stated quietly to Cruzii, slightly pushing him forward.

The others moved, with Newbold and his SAW taking the rearguard, as the two Colonials secured the hallway in front of them as Blanton moved to the small stairwell. Hailey and Cruzii were right behind him, weapons not as ready, but Cruzii was busier memorizing the pad that she was using to guide them. They knew there were hostiles around, and had to be careful.

Blanton carefully looked over the edge of the stairs' railings. He could see the rippling of fire and the shadows of hostiles moving about under him, just out of sight. Bracing himself on the railing he strained to look down to see how close or far these enemy soldiers were indeed located. But as he did that he saw a trio of soldiers walking up the bottom flight below the floor below him. Each was clothed in yellow tunics and metal helmets and chain mail. All were completely unaware of their presence above them, but were not someone to mess with, being armed with Ori staff weapons. They stopped on the landing of the next floor and spoke to someone and after a second they were ordered up again, this time accompanied by another section of a soldiers that just kept coming.

Blanton took a grenade from his vest, pulled the pin and dropped it.

"Frag out!" he yelled.

A few of the soldiers stopped when they saw the grenade hit the ground and hesitated, unsure what it was. But when it exploded they were enveloped in a cloud of smoke and dust after a hail of shrapnel shredded those near it. A set of screams came immediately afterwards and Blanton rushed down the stairs with one of the Colonials next to him, ready to finish the engagement. The Earth officer saw the first live enemy trying to get up from where he'd collapsed on the steps and looked up to see the group coming at him.

But a single shot blasted him in the chest and he rolled down and onto a group of bodies as another pair of enemy troops broke and ran, each badly injured, stumbling and holding onto their wounds.

"Too easy," Bradley smirked, noting the relative ease with which they were ripping them apart.

"Almost feel sorry for 'em," Cruzii agreed.

"Not too much," Hailey interrupted as she followed Blanton down the stairs, pushing past Cruzii.

"Frakking hardcore isn't she?" the gunney laughed, punching Cruzii in the shoulder as they continued down the stairs.

"I like it," Cruzii smiled, "Not like some girls I've known."

"Oh I wouldn't do that," Newbold advised them, "The Captain's not someone to mess with."

"I'm not intimidated by intelligence," Cruzii nonchalantly replied.

"How about a girl that can outsmart you and kick your ass?" Hailey interrupted, not appreciating being talked about behind her back.

"That remains to be seen," Cruzii shrugged, halting at a landing where Blanton had them stop as he swept the hallway to make sure they weren't leaving someone hostile at their back.

"Oh we'll see," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm sure we will."

"Would you knock it off?!" Blanton snapped, turning to look at them, "Despite the obvious I have trouble believing you two are even doing this whole passive aggressive flirting here! We have a job to do."

Cruzii was rather surprised at an Earther dressing him down in such a way, and looked to his own Colonials. But both held their hands up.

"Hey don't look at me, you're the one trying to flirt," Bradley laughed.

"Key word trying," the other one chuckled from below, "Clear to move."

"Let's go, and only speak when we need to know something!" Blanton hissed to both techies, moving forward, there would be no more idle chatter.

ZPM Room

The wait for Hailey to let them know she was in position to start fixing the power conduit was wearing the nerves of the team rather thin. Especially Dr. Underwood, he had finished his work, the city's systems were up and operational, and now he was waiting. Each time the radio crackled he jumped, hands gravitating to his keyboard. But each time it was nothing. As a quick few words of Spanish from SG-36 were spoken he jumped again.

This time Ruby placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to relax.

"You alright?"

"Yeah…no, not really," Underwood groaned.

"Nervous?" Dr. Wimmera chuckled.

"What and you aren't?" Underwood responded back.

"Well of course I am, I just saw a guy dragged into the medical room there with a big hole burnt into his chest. I heard the gunshots same as you."

"Hmph, yet I'm the one among us that is freaking out," Underwood grumbled under his breath.

"Hey, it's alright, being in battle is not natural at all for people like us, but we're still here, we're doing our jobs. That means something," Ruby stated, flinching noticeably as there was an explosion further out into the city.

Lower Levels

The rest of the descent into the depths of the pier happened quickly and without incident. Once they got to the bottom of the main stairs they all saw that the normal smooth aesthetic of the city's towers had disappeared, and now a functional bare look had taken over. Fire and smoke were gone, the damage having been restricted to a single area, and now they could hear nothing aside from their own movement.

"Alright, where's this ladder?" Blanton now asked quietly to Hailey.

"Down the hall fifty meters right, and then when we get to an open cavity where the main internal structural supports it'll be just to the left along a catwalk," Hailey explained, painting their route entirely to the point where they got to the conduit itself.

"Alright, we're still in hostile territory, keep your heads on a swivel," Blanton instructed as he made his way into the hall.

Everyone followed him, careful to limit the sounds they made. The order of the column was simple, Blanton and Newbold in the lead, Hailey in the middle with Cruzii next to her, against both walls and the two Colonial NCO's in the rear, keeping a careful eye out for anything moving up to ambush them from behind. Down here though, it was dark, only emergency lights in the water-filled columns providing light every so often. But it was good enough to do the job of providing shadows and a visible way forward.

"Blanton," the radio called out, "O'Neill, sitrep?"

"We're in the pier sir," Blanton called out, "Working our way to the bilge area to access the conduit."

"Be advised we've got that Ha'tak above the city, might want to hustle up so we can have it blown skyhigh."

"Roger that sir," Blanton acknowledged, "We'll have the shield up soon."

"We've also got the issue of…" Hailey reminded him as they got to the opening in the structure where a long catwalk branched off into the darkness, straight to the center. But below them they could see the water starting to fill in the floor, a few feet below them, "The flooding."

"That water looks awfully cold," Newbold mumbled, looking at the water below his feet.

"And this catwalk looks pretty sketchy," Blanton added, tapping the shaky metal platform which visibly shook at its connections with the wall.

"One at a time?" Newbold asked.

"Here," Cruzii volunteered, "I'll go first."

"Whoa, hold now," Blanton interrupted, holding an arm out, "Sergeant?"

"If the coast is clear, we need to get the…thing fixed. He and your own expert know better how to do that than any of us. Best let him go first, he's not as smart as her. Just in case it doesn't hold."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Cruzii scoffed.

"We go together, I'll go down first, you actually test the catwalk's stability," Hailey suggested with a shrug, "I'm the one with military training."

"And the bigger gun," the other Colonial NCO poked at Cruzii.

"Okay frak you two," Cruzii snapped, turning to directly address the much larger man.

But as he turned to say that he saw a black figure emerge from the curvature of the hall and lift their arm towards them. His reaction was rapid, he lifted up his compact personal defense weapon and lined up the holographic sight on the target and fired at him. The rudimentary training he'd received, coupled with his photographic memory made the movement jerky, but efficient.

The pop of the single round struck home, striking the man in the shoulder and catapulting him back onto the floor. The others whirled around as they saw him fire his weapon and engaged once they saw what exactly he was shooting at. Once that happened other enemy cloaked assassins with plasma repeaters started emerging from the shadows, firing their weapons at the six of them.

Newbold rushed forward, kneeling against a buttress on the wall and laid into the trigger, sending a long automatic burst into the hall, sending several hostile crumpling onto the ground at the rounds hit their unarmored bodies. The others did like actions, aiming down their sights at the opposing force advancing against them, firing at any time they weren't being forced to duck and cover. And this happened more often for the enemy than it did for them, as their numbers and the ease with which they poked their arms around the corners of cover and just squeezed off a stream of plasma bolts was astonishing.

It was something Major Blanton knew he didn't want his two tech experts in the middle of, and decided to hold the line and go for broke by sending them forward the rest of the way.

"Captain!" he roared over the sound of the gunfire, "Get your ass moving, and get that conduit fixed!"

"Sir?!" Hailey stammered, not really wanting to leave them to this fight.

"Now!"

"Cruzii, go with her!" Gunney Bradley yelled to Hailey's Colonial counterpart.

Hailey fired one last burst and turned to sprint into the doorway behind her, as she did so a sting of plasma bolts chased after her, and struck the ground and wall around her. One particularly close hit sent tiny bits of white hot metal into her uniform, singing the camouflage material and catching her in the cheek in a couple places. But she made it through, stumbling onto the rickety catwalk and pinned herself against the near wall as Cruzii rushed through as well and got out of the line of fire.

"Okay, follow me," Hailey declared, carefully sidestepping to the ladder over to the side where she saw it with her flashlight now on.

"Watch these catwalk sections, could cave in on us," Cruzii reminded her.

"I know."

Hailey went over to the ladder, tapping it with foot, seeing that it was somewhat secure against the wall and grabbed the edges and slid down. However she hit the water sooner than she would have liked, sending the cold chill straight to her hips as she let go and hit the deck. Looking down she knew that this was really bad, and that there was something else going on than just a damaged power conduit.

"Underwood! Why is this water getting in?" she snapped into her radio.

"We've got it down to one of the tanks used to submerge in that pier being damaged, some cracks that have grown and split open are the obvious cause. But we can't get the tank to empty itself because its pumps have no power," Underwood replied.

Cruzii slid down to join her as well, hitting the water with a splash and piped up to join the conversation.

"As it empties into the interior of the city the tank fills from the outside, might as well have a big hole in the pier," he surmised.

"Not unless we get power restored," Hailey declared, "Come on!"

She trudged forward, moving through hip deep water into a branching hallway that she saw was clearly the way to the power conduits. Once into the hall she was greeted with the sight of the long pipe-like devices on the ground, glowing blue as energy coursed through them. She could see that they were just fine here, as damage would have showed up as an abnormality in the visual flow.

"Alright, we follow this, and should find what we're looking for."

"Lead the way," Cruzii replied, his teeth chattering slightly.

Hailey opened her mouth to say something about the fact he had no waterproof clothing on in water that hit him with hypothermia in moments. But he made no mention, and didn't want to bring it up when there were other things to do. So they continued forward.

Back in the hallway the four guardians still slugged it out above their scientists, intent on keeping attention firmly on them. Major Blanton could tell that their foes were very much biting the hook they'd offered and was perfectly alright with letting them waste themselves fighting him and the team with him.

"How many do you think?" Sergeant Warren asked as he reloaded his weapon.

"At least a dozen, maybe more coming," Gunney Bradley responded.

"Who knows if we can hold them if they get more numbers," Newbold growled as he fired again, pinning them down.

"Well those two had better hurry then!"

The sounds of the fighting continued to echo above them, and was a constant remind they were on the clock. But the examination Hailey had to do with each section, checking the watery refraction for an abnormal glow was not something that could be rushed. She had to be certain the conduit was in proper condition at each branch-off to a major system core as she moved through the water with Cruzii behind her, if only to act as a pair of eyes and extra set of hands.

"There!" Hailey stated with finality, sighing in relief as she saw the break in the conduit.

But it wasn't was an ordinary break, it was a complete one where the vertical subconduit jutted out of the main line and into the ceiling, where it moved to the shield generator. It was precisely what they'd been looking for. The blue glow was not nearly as strong as it should have been, with only bits and pieces pulsating through the opaque glass tube. It was the exact kind of thing that was being described by Dr. Underwood, a damaged conduit line, preventing a complete flow of power to the shield generator. It was above the water line, a godsend for them, and she now began a careful examination. Finally after moving through the hallway in chilly water they arrived.

It was a straight vertical sub-conduit that was situated in an open area in the normally confined service hall. A pair of control boards were on the floor, just barely above water level with dark screens hanging from the ceiling and their crystal keys dark as well. It was a threeway intersection, with a small connecting hallway to their right that Hailey cleared before paying attention to the conduit.

"Underwood, Ellis, I'm at the break in the conduit, looks a branching line has failed at the intersection of the main line," she stated, checking both sides of the main line itself, seeing the exact same glow on both sides, "Doesn't look like we've got anything wrong with the main line."

"The branch-off must've been damaged in the city submerging, blunt force shockwaves?" Ruby asked, hypothesizing a potential cause.

"More than likely," Hailey said, shining her flashlight up into the vertical corridor, "The tower itself listed and must've popped the conduit out of alignment."

"It's upright now," Underwood stated, "Perhaps the power system needs it to be reset manually as a safeguard."

"Problem though," Hailey stated as she examined the metal joint, "Don't think it's just the alignment. I'm seeing some tiny fractures in the casing itself. I'm not sure we can fix it."

As she examined and talked her way with forward with the civilian techies also having their say Dr. Cruzii had been paying attention, listening carefully while keeping an eye on the other approaches. Down here the only light was the conduit's blue glow, which wasn't as good a source as they would have liked. So he was restricted to listening and watching for ripples in the water to keep an eye out for potential hostiles. As he kept an eye out he had seen a light set of ripples disturb the water from a hallway that was directly connected, which made the open area that much more dangerous to be in.

He moved to the dark hallway, and poked his head around the corner, and saw a line of black clothed enemy elites with another line of the staff-armed soldiers behind them. This he knew was bad, and jammed his weapon around the corner and fired. He saw his targets drop into the water immediately as he shot them at near point-blank range. How they'd gotten this close so silently was not in his thought process, just getting rid of them was.

Hailey immediately stopped what she was doing, and rushed over to him, as he emptied his magazine and dropped the fifth hostile in the line of enemy soldiers. She replaced him at the corner and fired her own weapon into the line of enemy troops right as Cruzii reloaded his bullpup weapon.

"This can't possibly get much worse!" Cruzii growled as he pulled his charging handle back and moved to return to firing into the enemy.

But as he said that the enemy brought forward what appeared to be a large shield, this one metal, and when both of them fired at it the bullets pinged right off. The plate was made of trinium, and was untouchable for their current weapons. Behind it their enemy advanced, some of them poking their staff weapons up or around and fired at them pushing the bodies down or aside as they moved towards them and closed the distance to a mere twenty feet.

"Major!" Hailey cried out into her radio, "We've got some company down here!"

"A little busy ourselves!" Blanton replied immediately, weapons fire in the background, "They've all converged right on top of us from both sides."

"Can't let them get much closer!" Cruzii reminded her.

"I know!" Hailey replied, fishing out a grenade from her vest and pulled the pin, "Stay back!"

She held it open, counting down the fuse until her nerves gave out and let it fly. Her aim was to have it blow in the air amongst the enemy after bouncing it up off of their crowded formation behind that shield. It sort of worked, blasting a cloud of shrapnel into the formation directly behind the shield, killing or wounding most of them, but those that lived began retreating. However something that they hadn't noticed was coming at them from underwater. Initially leading the column of enemy warriors was a handful of the elite of their army who had taken several casualties from Cruzii himself, but what Cruzii had thought was a complete wipeout was in fact a ruse, two of them had submerged entirely and swam at them once the grenade had gone off.

Their emergence as a surprise that caught both of them off-guard. The first to make their move jumped up and grabbed Cruzii's weapon and held a knife in his other hand and shoved him backwards. The second one rose up right in behind Hailey, and jammed his plasma repeater into her back and fired a trio of shots into it. Hailey felt the shots strike her right in one of the armor plates of her back and fell forward in pain, as the material protected her entirely for the first shot and the second shot, but some of the force and heat got through the third one. The shot cut into her upper right torso and her legs buckled beneath her as she fell into the water and then the man continued his attack by shoving her helmet down into the water in an attempt to drown her.

ZPM Room

Kathy had been busy trying to patch up one of the Colonial guards alongside Dr. Tew and the Colonial team's doctors. They had, for now, stabilized the worse off of the two, but not a moment went by when at least one of them were actively working on him. She'd quickly taken lead on this one, the energy blast directly into the chest cavity had caused first degree burns down to the outer casing of the right lung and he was having trouble breathing. An emergency tracheotomy had to be performed to pump air into his good lung while a blood transfusion was being performed by another one of the four doctors.

It was touch and go, but the doctors knew what needed to be done and being at the top of their field the man's life was no longer in grave danger. But Kathy and Tew, being the team's medical specialists, always had a medical alert system linked to the armor of their teammates. So whenever there was a loud ping in their ears they took notice.

"Oh my God!" Kathy yelled, looking at her wrist pad, which was the size of a smartphone, "Hailey! Colonel!" she cried out into the radio.

"Not so loud," O'Neill responded rapidly.

"Hailey's suit was just breached, she's been shot!"

"Hailey, O'Neill respond over," O'Neill quickly called out.

But there was no response.

Damaged Power Conduit, Lower Levels

Dr. Cruzii was not much better off, having been the first attacked. He'd been grabbed around his weapon and fought to retake control of it as a knife was stabbed right at his face and he grabbed the man's wrist to prevent this from happening. But they ended up tumbling over the hip-high power conduit, falling into the water as the assassin continued to try and shove his knife into Cruzii's chest underwater. Shoving off of the smooth floor Cruzii landed himself on top of his opponent and with one hand on his PDW and the other firmly holding his opponent's arm he pulled the trigger, sending several loud concussions through the water as he himself gasped for breath. The water-bound concussions did their intended job, blasting his opponent's eardrums, and allowing Cruzii to gain the upper-hand. He twisted his weapon back against his opponent and fired the rest of his magazine into the man's chest. The slower bullets did less damage, but did enough, blood poured into the water, and the knife dropped from his grasp as bubbles escaped his mouth below the surface.

Meanwhile Hailey was battling for consciousness. When her head had been shoved below the water she'd been gasping for breath, and had taken in a mouthful of water. Her lungs burned and were vision faded she tried struggling to push off the floor and reach the surface just a few feet from her. But her attacker had the advantage of position, and her movements were getting weaker. She tried grasping for her pistol, and managed to pull it from its holster and jabbed it into the man's hand holding her head down and fired. The bullet passed through his wrist, and he let go, stumbling backwards and roared in pain as he held the wounded appendage. Hailey broke the surface now, dropping her pistol and coughed violently, ears ringing while in a great deal of pain in her lungs and back. Breath came, but only just so, as she tried recovering she saw Cruzii stand on the conduit and fired his pistol, the strange firing noise echoing in the confined space. The man collapsed silently into the water, drifting out into the hall.

"You alright?!" Cruzii gasped, seeing that she was struggling, hopping down next to her and helped her over to brace on the power conduit.

"I-I'm fine," she coughed out, trying to regain her breath, but the now burning plasma burn on her back was not helping the mask of being alright.

She tried straightening upright, but a shot of pain coursed out through her back from where she could just feel the mangled armor plate melted into her skin. Cruzii held her carefully, knowing something else was wrong and looked at her body, checking for what could have been the cause. The black hole and shine of exposed metal was the first clue. A hole the size of his wrist was burnt into her armor and some skin was clearly visible.

"You're hurt," Cruzii informed her, "Doc," he called out to his medical expert on the radio.

"Wounded," she corrected him.

"Seriously? Even wounded you're correcting me."

"And I still need to do this," she added, holding herself up and shuffled over to the conduit.

"Jennifer," it was Kathy, SG-1's medical expert, "What happened? Your suit just said you got hurt!"

"Wounded!" she corrected once again, "Not crippled."

"We're on our way Captain," Hailey heard Major Blanton call out.

"I can do this," she shook her head, fighting down the feeling of lightheadedness that now hit her full on.

"Captain your suit is saying it has been fully penetrated, Blanton is on his way," Colonel O'Neill interrupted.

"It's not bad Colonel," Hailey calmly responded.

"Captain, you're not alright," Cruzii grabbed her, and pointed down at the water at her hips. The water was starting to color red at her right hip, and was spreading, "You're losing blood."

"Dylan," this time it was Dr. Deckero, Recon One's medical doctor, "Listen carefully, you have to stop the bleeding. Get a bandage on, and apply pressure, lots of it."

"I can't, her armor's preventing hands-on contact."

"And she's not going to let him," Hailey shoved him off, "Underwood! I'm going to try and manually test the connection."

"Hailey you sure?"

"I'm doing it," the stubborn officer replied, and tried to pull on a lever, but couldn't at first try.

"Here," Curzii silently suggested moving forward to pull on it, "Get a bandage on that."

Grabbing onto the large handle he yanked on it as hard as he could, but it only groaned in response, and barely budged an inch. He looked at it closely, flashing his light at the joint and couldn't see what the problem could be. As he did that Hailey dug into one of her pockets, ripping out a bandage that stuffed into the hole in her armor and then wrapped a strip of gauze tightly around it. But she didn't inject the morphine she had, she needed her mind sharp.

"It's not budging."

"Not good," she shook her head with a sigh.

"No, not good at all," he agreed, "But there's another way to fix this."

"Give me a long enough lever and I'll move the Earth," Ruby orated into the radio.

"What're you talking about?" Hailey snapped irritably.

"Archimedes! If you can find something long enough and attach it to that lever you can overcome the jam."

"Question is the jam meant to be stuck?" Underwood asked.

"While I find something to leverage that thing you find out and try and fix it from your end," Hailey ordered.

"You're not moving," Cruzii responded to her, holding her down, "I'll go. You move anymore then you could end up making that worse."

Without giving Hailey a chance to do anything he rushed out, knowing where to find a long sturdy pole-like device. Rushing out to the field of bodies in the dark hallway he began fishing around, trying to find a staff weapon and something to bind it with.

In the time it took to find one Hailey had managed to half-swim to one of the power control stations and had plugged in her pad. She began rapidly tapping buttons on the now complete systems, trying to narrow down the issue. With these stations having the direct control over this section she was able to find the issue herself rather quickly. The power coupling that fed the conduit to the shield generator had been horribly damaged. Hardly anything of the upper receiver crystals had survived.

"Underwood, you see what I see?"

"Way ahead of you. That thing isn't going anywhere. Not until it has somewhere to put all that power. We're going to have to beam in new ones and replace them," the man stated on the other line.

"I've already got the specs to the Shokaku, they're synthesizing them now," Ruby relayed as well.

"We'll need to shut down the conduit itself before we can access it," Hailey advised.

"Once that's done we'll have them beamed right to you and the shell will be beamed away so we can replace the crystals," Underwood further explained.

"Better hurry up," Hailey then whispered, another spell of nausea and light-headedness hitting her full-on and she had to brace herself, dropping her tablet on the control panel, "Now would be nice."

The shuffling and splashing of water behind let her know that Cruzii was back, and he placed an Ori staff on the control panel. He could see with the light of his helmet flashlight that she beginning to get pale.

"You need medical attention, badly," he advised her.

"Not as bad as we need to finish," she stated again.

As she said that a long hardened box beamed into the room on the floor, and floated up to the surface. Inside were their crystals that were meant to be the linking portion of the power conduit intersection. Next the conduit itself went dark, cutting off all power and thus all light. After that a bright white light lit them up for a second and then Dr. Cruzii looked and saw the casing was gone. Shokaku's beams had taken the casing away and gave them all they needed to finish this last-minute piece of technical magic.

"We need to," Hailey stated breathlessly, trying to steady herself as she grimaced. But by now Cruzii had had enough.

"No, enough is enough," Cruzii shook his head and declared, "She can't continue like this, if she does she'll die."

"The hell do you know?" Hailey growled.

"I know enough to tell that you can't do this, you can barely stand and your blood is leaving a trail," he pointed irritated at her continued refusal to stop for medical attention, "I can finish this. I see what needs to go where, I can place it all where it needs to go."

"This is extremely delicate work," Hailey said, eyeing the damaged crystals currently connected to the conduit, "It takes someone with an extremely high skillset and-," she started to explain.

"And I'm overqualified," Cruzii interrupted, "We don't have time for this. I'm finishing this."

"The hell you are," Hailey scoffed.

However to prove his point Cruzii pressed a thumb into the wound in her lower back, causing her to spasm in pain almost immediately. He hadn't even pressed very hard, but he felt his point was made, her wound was in an area of constant movement, the slightest spasm like that and she'd damage or break the crystals.

"The hell you are," Cruzii calmly shot at her, knowing that she was in no condition and pride and a lack of trust was driving her, "Get that wound taken care of and I'll take care of this. We don't have time for this."

He stood up next to the open crystal connection and started removing the damaged crystals, one by one. There were sixteen total crystals, each unique in shape and size. All were either cracked or entirely burnt out and shattered. As he worked on this very easy part Hailey was starting to get her bearing back after the sharp pain Cruzii had put her through. Reminding herself to slap him across the face later she bit back a choice few words she had at the forefront of her mind she pulled up the connection schematics so that she could monitor the work.

The crystal bed was arranged in an octagon with pointed crystals all around. Each one was different, with white markings on them all. The bottom connections were all unique, with different shapes and inlayed white markings. Most were roughly uniform in their thickness, but none of them were entirely different to the point where you could easily see which was which. This was where the expertise and precision of the two experts.

"Alright, last one," Cruzii stated, dropping the damaged crystal into the water and turned and placed the case onto one of the control panels, out of the water where he could have easy access, "Okay…let's get these in, and get this frakking shield up."

"This one," Hailey said, passing over the first crystal, delicately placing it in Cruzii's hand, "Place it, here," she said, pointing at the entry point on her tablet.

Cruzii quickly found the place, and put it into place, feeling it gently slide into place. The cystal went in without issue, and so the process continued, one by one, they got to the final pair of crystals. By now both were in a bad way, Hailey because of the plasma weapon wound and Cruzii due to creeping hypothermia. His hands had begun shaking, making the crystal placing go slower as he fought to keep the feeling in his extremities. As he went to grab the second to last one, he noticed Hailey had begun to slur her words whenever she spoke, and she was leaning heavily on the conduit, which itself was going deeper and deeper underwater.

"The level's rising," Hailey mumbled, noting the rising water.

"I know," Cruzii responded, "Where's this one go?"

He reached for the crystal, but Hailey's hand fell once he grabbed it. She completely passed out, and fell into the water, sliding off of the conduit and limply floating in the cold water. Cruzii saw she was unconscious immediately. He put the crystal back onto the bed in the conduit and jumped to pull her back above the water.

"Doc! She's passed out!"

"Oh not good, she's been working with that wound?"

"Yeah," he said as he heard a splashing noise coming from the hall. He pointed his pistol at the noise and saw the shapes of Major Blanton and the others.

"Cruzii," Gunney Bradley said in a rush, "Get that thing fixed, now. We've got air support incoming."

"If that shield isn't up, wreckage will fall right on top of us," Blanton explained.

"If that wreckage hits the city will fracture and sink like a rock," Cruzii reminded them, "Everything we've already fought for will be gone. Not happening though. I've got two crystals left and we'll be done."

He handed off Hailey to the other Earth officer and grabbed the other crystal still in the case and looked at the two in question, and saw that they were the same shape on the bottom but different above. The group watched as he looked at the tablet next to him, comparing the two in his hands. He finally chose the one in his right hand and decided to place it above. With shaking hands he slid it into place, breathing a sigh of relief as it clicked. The second went in quickly, and he breathed a much more massive sigh of relief.

"We're done, close it up," he said on the radio.

"Good job Victor," Dr. Wimmera said with extreme relief on her end.

A moment later, the group's eyes were greeted with the casing being beamed back into place thanks to the Shokaku, sitting in orbit. Then, with a quick advising call out the blue power conduit began glowing, and the mission was a success.

ZPM Room

"Would you like the honors Brenda?" Underwood stated calmly.

He held out a hand to the enter button to order the shields to activate. Brenda, who'd just walked in herself, saw the group's objective was now complete, and she walked up the controls, looking around and hit the enter button and the screen changed and she ran out to a window to see what she'd been hoping would happen.

A massive blue bubble began to rise, forming around the city, cutting off the rising smoke from the outer pier. The Ha'tak hovering well over the city seemed to stop what it was doing and realized what had just happened. As she saw the shield complete its rise the mothership opened fire. Yellow blasts smashed into the powerful ancient shield, but accomplished nothing. The troop transports tried lifting off but left hundreds of warriors behind. They had no way out, and the first one to try and escape crushed itself against the shield, erupting into smoke and flames, the wreckage fell as the others tried as well, but two collided and dropped like rocks into the water.

"We did it," she sighed, leaning against the window frame, "We did it."

She heard a set of footsteps coming up from her right and she turned and saw O'Neill leading a line of Colonial and Earth SG-1 team members. Behind him she saw SG-36 walking in as well, with three of their number having burns in their armor plates and one with a bandage on their right shoulder.

"Don't worry about them, got ambushed but they'll be fine," O'Neill nonchalantly explained, "We've got things under control now."

"I hope so," Brenda breathed in complete relief.

"Sierra Gulf One, Kongo, support incoming," the radio called out, and they all saw the form of the Japanese battleship starting to drift into view through the fog, and the enemy saw it as well.

"Let's see if the enemy knows better than to engage us," O'Neill asked, watching the battleship accelerating towards them.

As that happened a series of small explosions riddled the shield of the Ha'tak, flashes from the distance lit up the near dusk sky as Colonial artillery finally got in range and opened fire. This was the last straw, the enemy ship knew that its time had come to leave. It lifted away from Olympus, and began accelerating away. The Japanese battleship flew overhead, resting over the city as the Ha'tak opened a hyperspace window and jumped into it. With that gone, the entire city fell into silence, the warriors deposited on the city began to see what had happened and now realized that their fight was over, they'd lost all support, and all hope. Olympus had been saved.

**Okay I'll call it for this chapter, I've been working on this one for a while. The reason for the really long wait was that I'd had another version of it all the way to five thousand words and then lost it. It's happened once before, but hey, not a big deal, I got this one done, and I'll try and get back to a much less intense, more character-centric set of plots involving the Colonials and Earth.**

**So as usual, hope you guys enjoyed, I look forward to seeing what you guys think. **

**Also, if you guys are interested I was involved in a battle in Eve Online that made it onto Youtube. The video is "Phantom Recon – J104723 – 12/09/2016" in case you guys want to see what it is I am up to when I'm not writing.**

**Next Chapter Preview: The mission and fight is over, where does this leave the Colonies and Earth.**


	24. Chapter 23

**Sorry about the wait, just got wrapped up in real life.**

**Okay, with Kobol wrapped up time for some bad guy exposition. There are questions about who's who and what's what, and why. I figure that now is the time to start hinting at the why, but at least give an idea as to the what and who our heroes, whether Colonial or Earth, will face in the coming struggle. **

Chapter 23

Location: Planet Gaul

Date: February 26, 2025

Time: 0200

In orbit around a lone, yet incredibly busy planet on the periphery of the galaxy a lone Hat'ak class Mothership dropped out of hyperspace. A day ago it had left this planet alongside a powerful fleet of several dozen other such ships. Aboard the king of the many millions of people living on the temperate planet and many others fumed at the failure of his expedition and the loss of his most cherished benefactor.

His name was King Rhone the Star Conqueror. He'd earned this name through the obvious and rather unprecedented use of the remnants of a shipyard once owned by the Gou'ald System Lord Taranis who he himself had slain. An able warrior and gifted tactician he'd made the leap from conquering the feuding lords of his own local area to his whole planet within a few years. This was helped by the fact his planet had only two continents nearby one another and a meagre fifty million people residing on them. However it was the major leap to the crude construction of Gou'ald Motherships and expansion through the Stargate that had made his mark truly notable.

Conquest had come easy enough, striking down the most powerful lords and upstart kings was a simple task from high above. And holding these new lands through the stars had come with great rewards of treasure, resources, and power. He'd copied the foundation that a race of parasites posing as Gods had once built, but he would rule as a King, not a god to be worshipped. King Rhone knew this to be perilous, and knew such acts of brutality would draw the ire of those who he feared most, the Taur'i. To quarrel with the Taur'i was a fool's errand, and he'd maintained anonymity with his conquests, staying limited in use of force, and benevolent in victory as it suited him.

However things had changed in the past year, he'd found religion. Or rather, religion had found him. One day his fleet had encountered a single ship of unknown origin bearing not just warriors, but a priest of a religion he'd never before heard. As was natural for him he listened, and was transformed by the message heard. The texts he was memorizing were preaching of a God that coincided with what kings wanted to hear, justification for power. What he was reading said that those unbelievers who refused to come to the word of his God were worthy of subjugation and slavery. He took up the golden emblem of his Agent, much to the bearded, hooded man's graceful glee, and helped impose this system onto his subjects.

In return his own armies were met with great gifts of technology to aid in battle. Granted most were reverse engineered Gou'ald designs, but it was the manufacturing process to build them had transformed them into a formidable army. His soldiers brandished staff weapons, staff cannons, plasma repeaters, and the ability to build a great fleet. To them this fleet numbered in the dozens, around sixty in all. To crew them increasingly happy subjects from conquered lands filled the ranks as their homes saw increased crop yields, trade, wealth, and easier lives.

Such were the gifts of the Amarr, as he knew his benefactors to be named. To them he was a useful convert, a man to be used for a greater purpose. They tasked him with simple missions, which he accomplished time and again with increasingly blind fervor. The power he felt with their gifts was but a trifle, as he had been repeatedly told. But now he feared this power that may fall upon him as a consequence for failure.

He sat on his throne in the bridge of his ship and saw a sight he was accustomed to seeing over his homeworld, a long golden and tan hulled ship one thousand meters long with a curving grace to its lines. The vertical head of the ship curved backwards with antennae protruding from the rear of the head. Two stubby wings in the front of the ship jutted out like the head did and was where its heavy laser turrets were located. The hull thinned out as it went to a massive single engine in the rear, connecting at two separate points, one large section closely above a smaller secondary hull.

Rhone remembered it being named as a_ Redeemer_ Class Black Operations Battleship, and was the only ship able to make the journey back and forth aside from another type of ship that he had yet to see but had heard was a sight to change a man's life. Usually he would be excited to see this ship, but now he feared it. He knew such a failure as he'd suffered would not be received well, especially when the infidels had murdered one of the Amarr's, and his own, trusted Agents.

"Hail the Amarr," Rhone called out to his helmsman, "Let us hope our apology will be accepted, and forgiveness imparted."

"Yes your majesty," the man said with a bow and pressed the crystal to make the transmission.

He waited, tugging on his tunic nervously as the Amarr battleship received the transmission and now answered.

"King Rhone, you have returned," the old man, a senior and powerful man known to him as Ada Khanid, greeted him. His face bore a thick white beard, and everything above his nose covered by his maroon cloak.

"Yes your eminence, I'm afraid my return is in defeat. Our forces were out-numbered, and with the arrival of the Taur'i to assist the barbarians tasked to me we were badly out-matched. Our losses were complete, and…I must bear the shame and sadness to report the loss of the Agent."

"This is…unfortunate," Khanid's voice growled, "But not unexpected as we have learned."

"Your eminence we threw ourselves against the enemies of God, and many have paid the ultimate sacrifice only to be met with failure. For that I apologize, and I ask for your forgiveness," Rhone bowed his head, knowing that at any moment a bright yellow light from the golden warship before him could wipe his mothership from the sky, a suitable punishment for failure. But he had to try.

"Your faithfulness and devotion have long impressed me, and your skill and talents in accomplishing your tasks have earned you the benefit of our gratitude. One failure, while great in scale, will not change that. For forgiveness is imparted on the faithful."

"Thank you, I shall not allow this to dampen the fire that has been lit here. For it is written that the fire of the faith is a light no ocean nor night can darken," Rhone cleverly replied, quoting a verse of the texts he'd studied.

"As it is written. You shall reflect and examine the battle and we shall aid you in preparing for your next engagement."

"I will throw myself into the next effort with your guidance," Rhone bowed, and was able to breathe a sigh of relief as the feed was cut, and he started to figure out what he was going to do now.

First though, he would need to assert his rule. Such a tragic loss of forces was a massive blow to his ability to maintain a large enough force to continue to take territory. He would need to consolidate his losses, as he walked to the ring chamber to ring down to his massive mountaintop fortress in the heart of his capital city he began hatching new plans. The first of which involved completely controlling the closest planets that had some sizeable population centers. Once done he thought of buying the loyalty of other smaller planets' leaders with the promise of weapons and treasure. The ones that couldn't be bought would be destroyed, quickly and efficiently.

Location: Tawa, Sagittaron

"How long?" Zarek growled, looking over the map of the city in the basement of this low-income apartment building he'd arrived in the day before, just escaping through the mountain passes before Colonial forces could be brought to bear upon his fighters.

"We've reached the foundation of the garage for the plant," his chief of operations for the city's growing contingent of SFM members, "We're waiting on the plutonium shipment to be fully prepared. Once we have that intel we'll know they're ready, we blow the floor, take the canisters and scatter them to bomb makers."

"Good, good," Zarek nodded, "Try not to kill too many people, we don't want to be seen as committing massacres. Not the best way to gain a base of support. Have we begun to stir things up around town?"

"Already done, an unfortunate kid got ran over by a car belonging to a Caprican shipping tycoon yesterday, all caught on tape. It's spreading like wildfire, and the fact the stupid frakker fled to Caprica and hasn't even been arrested yet is even better than we could have planned it."

"The kid's alright I assume?" Zarek demanded tersely.

"He's a bit banged up, not dead as the news would have us and everyone else believe. A bag of animal blood spilled on the street can make anyone seem dead."

"Excellent, I heard the riot going on earlier, we get some of that brutality on tape?"

"We got a good one of some frakking anarchist taking a rubber bullet to the balls, that was worth a laugh," someone mentioned.

That drew a few laughs, male humor was rather unchanged, even in a terrorist war room.

"So public opinion is extremely agitated to say the least?" Zarek asked.

"Oh very much so boss."

"Okay…" Zarek decided, determined to make an attempt on ultimate liberation soon, "Make preparations for a protest turned riot at the Assembly Hall. Agitate the crowd, break the barriers, and take over the building. The next day the cops will try and mass and retake the building. We'll be there to defend the people."

"By defend you mean…"

"We'll do what we need to do," Zarek declared, "Start moving weapons and ammunition for our guys to pick up. This means everything, rockets, machine guns, explosives, everything. This time the tide's turned."

"You think the reservists will help us?" one of Zarek's lieutenants asked, knowing that regular Colonial Army troops wouldn't turn.

"I think enough will so that we can take the armories in the city," Zarek nodded, "Once a few join more will also join. With increased success we can build on it, as long as we're smart. No death squads, no public executions, no brutality. Detain and deport, that's our public plan, that's what the cameras and people will see. Understand?"

Murmurs of agreement, some sour, came from the half dozen lieutenants of Zarek's operation. This plan was many years in the making and they had it all memorized by now. It was a good plan, one that had a good chance of working given the right circumstances.

Location: Cylon Fallback Point

Things had happened quickly, the fleet had been lost, the plan was in ruins, and the whole of the Cylon council was in shock. The Cavils especially hadn't anticipated such a setback. Their belief was that they were perhaps the most formidable armada in the galaxy from what the Lucians had told them. But the Lucians didn't have a frakking clue what had just curb-stomped them all.

The Resurrection Hub and a pair of Resurrection Ships were all that remained of their ability to remain immortal. To protect them fifteen upgraded Basestars formed the last vestige of a fleet that numbered over a thousand. It was a bitter pill to swallow for the Cylons, who now didn't know what to do. Meetings had been held, but nothing had been decided.

"We can't just sit here," a Two pleaded to the council, "If we stay we die."

"And go where?" Cavil mumbled, eyes jaded over, mind off to other places.

"Somewhere we can rebuild," a Five elaborated.

"And do what? Lose another thousand Basestars? I don't think so," Cavil growled, shaking his head profusely.

"What I want to know is why those people attacked us!" an Eight interrupted.

"We've tried three times with a Heavy Raider to ascertain why, every single one is destroyed on sight. Those…people are obviously not interested in talking. They came as conquerors, our brothers and sisters returning from Lucia have already said they're taking over, building cities, industry, everything a conqueror does."

"Could…could they have known what we wanted to do?"

This created a pause in the room. Logic dictated that most anything was possible. The first thing into most of their minds though was the obvious belief that their security had been foolproof. In their minds it was completely impossible, but then again, impossible was the description of many things before it was accomplished. A ship as large as the Colony was among those impossible feats, and yet, it had split the Colony in half. Ships had flown into Basestar formations and jammed out their FTL's. They had seen hundreds of ships of types and capabilities only ever theorized upon. It was a rude awakening for the Cylons, and it had cost them dearly.

"It is possible as anything is," Cavil grumbled, "But the better question is how do we salvage this?"

"Salvage?!" an Eight screamed, "It's over! The plan is now a dream. The time has come to reevaluate what our own purpose in life is. God sent this tragedy for a reason, it is time we reflect on what that reason is and seek our real destiny."

Cavil looked at her with tired, stunned eyes, his days of near total control of the Cylons were well and truly over. Now the Cylons had to find a new path, one that didn't involve what they thought it had originally involved, and that was the destruction of Humanity. What their new purpose was was up for debate, and would be debated for a long time. Yet now was the time to start.

"We'll need to find a planet, one far away, unseen, undisturbed," a Two recommended, "There, we can rebuild and reflect."

"We should start sending long range scouts and find a suitable world then."

"All in agreement?"

Location: Battlestar Galactica, Orbit around Kobol

"What's the butcher's bill?" Adama inquired from his desk, looking up at Colonel Tigh.

"Twenty-three dead, eighteen wounded aboard ship," Tigh began, "We lost eight birds. The rest of the fleet's still counting their losses, but we've taken some serious damage. Already we've written off five destroyers and two cruisers need drydock to repair the damage. Battlestar Acheron has taken near-critical damage. Her starboard pod has been split in half, two of her engines are gone and two more need major repairs, one of her FTL's needs to be replaced so she's limited to say the least. We're not in very good shape here."

"We knew we would take losses," Adama nodded, "They're not as high as we'd originally anticipated though."

"Still breathing you mean?"

"To an extent. The degaussing fields held up pretty well, have to say I'm impressed," the Admiral smiled, not minding the new Galactica one bit at all.

"She was built tough alright," Tigh chuckled, placing the damage and casualty report on Adama's desk and sat down on an easy chair across from him, "But frak, those tin cans and cruisers…they didn't have a chance in hell."

"No, Fleet needs to figure that out, can't have every engagement bleed us like this. We won't last in a long campaign for shit," Bill agreed sourly.

"We're pretty frakking lucky that that Earth fleet showed up though, whatever they hit them with…damn, never seen anything like it."

"It seems we share at least one enemy. Question I'd like an answer to is this, for what reason? And what now? Do we…go to being neutral acquaintances? Friends? What's the play now?"

"Awfully political questions there Bill," Tigh pointed out.

"We have to start learning some rudimentary politics out here," Adama grumbled, "It's not as simple as it was back in the day when we just…saw a toaster and blew it up. Now…we gotta make sure we know what they're doing, why they're doing it, and know how to make sure we get what we want without them stopping us, and without hurt feelings or blood spilled…frak I miss the old days."

"Times are changing, we're just the old guard, ready to give our wisdom to those who need it and will use it," Tigh laughed as he leaned back.

"Sure looks like the old guard did its job today," Adama smiled with satisfaction, leaning back himself, "But were we better or just luckier?"

"We're the ones in control of the planet and picking through their wreckage, I'd say we were better this time."

He was right to an extent. A dozen Marinestars had taken to the planet, landing their division of Marines and special forces detachments with attached Marine air cover to Kobol. They'd begun an easy bout of mopping up operations to secure the planet's scientific research bases and a long series of hostage rescues that were just dragging on and on. Colonial Commando teams from each of the Marinestars were being dragged across the map to these high-risk places where concentrations of hostiles were bottled up with Colonial civilians or captured military personnel were held hostage. So far no disasters had occurred, but each instance held new risk.

However none of these tense situations could hold back the flood of fresh Marine divisions and complete domination of the skies. The Colonial objectives were completed, at a price which was quite unfortunate. Casualties on the ground were still climbing as their forces retook lost or abandoned territory. Already they had ascended the thousands, most of them civilians killed in the aerial bombardment of the bases and their attempted escape vehicles.

Militarily casualties were incredibly steep. One Battlestar was crippled and several hundred crew potentially killed or wounded while another was put of action for equally heavy loss of life. Four cruisers had been either lost or crippled, and eleven destroyers had been also put of action or completely destroyed. On the planet more than two hundred Vipers and Raptors had been destroyed on the ground along with several hundred vehicles and weapons emplacements. Several battalions had been reduced to echelon forces from orbital bombardment and reinforcements through the ring had taken modest casualties. All-in-all, it was a horrible victory, paid for in blood.

But the price of defeat for their enemies was steep, perhaps more-so. Body collection had counted up several thousand hostiles dead, and many hundreds captured. Their fleet only escaped with the flagship being the lone survivor. And no one really knew the crew compliment of their ships, so their death tolls could have risen past twenty thousand. But there was no real way of knowing. Earth's nuclear salvo had left little biological material with which to quantify crew numbers.

But Kobol was safe, and no one could have asked any more of the Colonial defenders than that simple task. However the victory was not theirs alone. Currently, the whole of the Earth fleet hovered over Olympus, sweeping the city for anything of danger to the city itself. The care the Earthers took to try and repair some of the major damage to the city amazed the Colonials. And once complete, they just sat there, awaiting any other possible danger until they were satisfied the planet was safe. They could see what the damaged Colonial blockade could not.

At the standard jump point for arriving vessels a wave of flashes greeted the tired and jumpy Colonial forces in orbit around Kobol. A pair of mammoth Warstars lead a fleet of twenty Battlestars and fifty cruisers with over two hundred accompanying destroyer escorts. An attack on Kobol had set of a shitstorm of mobilization that had seen this response fleet jump to Kobol's rescue. Assembled here now was a shade under a fourth of the whole of the Colonial Fleet's Battlestars.

As awesome a show of force as it was, it was indeed quite late. However this was the reinforcement that Earth was waiting to show up so they could leave. Colonial troops on the ground that could see the Earth fleet watched closely as the fleet turned and made their jump into hyperspace, well aware of what they owed them.

Location: Moon of Choros, RSEC Headquarters

"Well?" Admiral Queen asked as the last of his teams returned from Kobol.

"Marines are fully deployed, Commando Teams have taken over special operations. Kobol's been declared pre-emptively secure. I think we can start trying to figure out who the frakkers were that attacked us and strike back hard," Colonel Black growled as he took off his helmet and allowed himself to relax.

"What were our casualties in Olympus?" Admiral Queen asked, directing Black to the briefing room as the other teams went to turn in their weapons and change and get some food.

"Near total loss amongst the security teams, we lost a few from the other teams, but my team's still one hundred percent. That's why I'm asking for the first mission to strike back through the ring," Black demanded.

"Strike missions will come Colonel, first, we need to know our enemy, find him, and then he's yours to do away with. That is another reason I'm ordering an additional combat course for all civilian team members and now mandatory carry for PDW's," Queen stated firmly, "From what I was told by Agent Fraser the civilians you had with you performed above expectations."

"Hate to give him credit but it's justly due sir," Black agreed, "Fraser picked a helluva team. Dr. Cruzii in particular, dare I say it deserves a frakking medal. I saw his helmet recording already, the frakker's the real deal."

"Let's not let him hear it," Agent Fraser now spoke up as he entered the briefing room himself having to check his team members to be sure they were alright, "Cruzii's ego is unbearable as is."

"Fraser," Colonel Black nodded to the man, a sign of real respect between them now, but still their professional rivalry existed in a way more akin to competition, "How're they?"

"They're doing better than I had expected to be perfectly honest. Reaction to first combat's a tough thing to gauge."

"That's good to hear Agent," Admiral Queen said, offering a handshake that was taken, "Pass along my congratulations to them on a job well done."

"Thank you Admiral."

"Now, I don't think I'll have to explain to you two that we need to get back out there," Queen pointed out, "Civilians will remain with the teams but after a refresher combat course and mandatory defense weapons being carried at all times. We still have our mandate to explore, find and bring back anything we can use. Initial reports suggest the Fleet took massive casualties driving these guys to atmosphere before Earth finished them off. We need everything we can get."

"No argument sir," Colonel Black piped up.

"Really? No 'civilians aren't soldiers' dig?" Fraser asked sarcastically.

"So far so good. They've earned the benefit of the doubt so far."

"Alright then, your team has a twenty-four hour leave, rest up. You'll need it."

**So this was a somewhat shorter chapter, but it was filler of a kind. I'm looking to start a series of chapters and chapter arcs that equate more to Stargate SG-1 episodes to begin fleshing out the teams and changing face of the galaxy and the struggle both sides will have in understanding why it is happening for Earth and just what is out there for the Colonials. **

**As such, I'm actually open to any episode-esque little episodes through the gate for the teams to come across. If you have an idea for a little adventure or a culture/time period for them to come across leave your idea in either PM or review form. I love hearing ideas and remember, it's Stargate, the multitude of combination of time period and culture is a wealth of potential.**

**Next Chapter Preview: Some soul-searching for SG-1's new crew is in order. As is a re-evaluation of their relationship, or lack thereof, with the Colonials.**


	25. Chapter 24

**I've decided what my next chapter arks will be for both the Colonials and Earth, so, let's get this started shall we? But first, this chapter. I'm excited for this, been looking forward to exploring and developing the characters as they begin fleshing out what the heck is going on in the galaxy, because it is changing. These changes are what would realistically occur as Earth has seen in its own history, so I've applied those historical patterns to the Stargate Universe and holy crap! The creative possibilities are endless! But I have to choose, so here's the kick-starter for that decision.**

Chapter 24

Location: Terra Nova, Stargate Command

Date: February 26, 2025

Time: 0945

Only two members of SG-1 had been left behind for the current mission, Dr. Tomas Lopez and Dr. Harold White. Both of them were the lowest tier scientists on the team, which meant neither was really wanted on a combat mission whereas a techie or a medical doctor was appreciated and Dr. Walt was a diplomat in his own right. So that left the two of them sitting to stew back at base, in SG-1's own little space where each scientist had their own lab/office.

Dr. White, the team biologist, was in his office, hovering over the phone as he tried to tame his nervousness by writing up a report on the biological life encountered on SG-1's second short-lived mission. It was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. Sitting there, just waiting, knowing that his team mates were out there in harm's way consistently gnawed at him, making writing what should have been a fairly simple report quite difficult. He'd only been on the team officially for about a month, just like everyone else. Like everyone else on SG/E-1, he'd passed his physical, he'd passed his combat and self-defense training, and he was accomplished in his chosen field of study. But that wasn't needed or useful on the type of mission that the rest of his team mates were on. White and Lopez were just extra baggage, to be dropped off and left behind when the important missions arose. It sucked to be "that guy".

Unable to continue he saved what progress he'd made and logged off of his desktop on his desk and left through the door into his lab, which itself was joined to Dr. Lopez's geology lab next door and to the hallway where all four scientific specialties were represented in the form of four well-endowed labs with attached offices for everyone. It was down a flight of stairs or a large elevator used for moving objects or if someone was injured and unable to use the stairs. Their area of work was located on the floor below SG-1's rec room, briefing room, the offices for the military members, and locker rooms. It was fully decked out and was quite comfortable, but they didn't have everything to themselves.

SG-1 shared a gym with SG's Two, Three, and Four. But it was fine, and the gym was a good place to blow off steam or socialize or whatever. So Dr. White took the stairs up to the main level after seeing that Dr. Lopez was not in his own office or lab. Coming up into the rec room he saw that he wasn't there either so decided to peak into the gym after hearing the sound of a treadmill and a TV from there.

"Tomas!" he called out as he walked onto the black padded floor and saw Tomas on a treadmill wearing his workout clothes and the TV in the treadmill playing a soccer game and loudly broadcasting in Spanish, "What're you doing?"

"Getting into better shape," the Latino man responded between pants, "What's it look like?"

"Looks like stress relief to me," White noted honestly.

"Well I guess it's that too," Lopez panted as he stopped for a moment, holding out his arms on the bars and turned the TV to pause, "But it's something else too man."

"What's that?" White grumbled, sitting down onto an incline bench and stared up one at one of the ceiling fans high above them.

"Don't you feel…y'know like a loser sitting here in Terra Nova while the others are out on a mission?" Lopez started after taking a gulp of powerade from a bottle in a cupholder in his treadmill.

"Of course I do, I've heard the tales same as you. Of Dr. McKay, Dr. Jackson, guys like us who aren't even remotely considered soldiers saving the Earth!" White responded with annoyance.

"What's the difference between them and us right?" Lopez asked, "Not much, yet they're heroes!" he declared, holding out his arms, "We can do what they did. Go out there, and help I mean."

"They were important, McKay's a techie and Jackson was a linguist," White reminded his counterpart, "I'm a biologist and you're a geologist! Not much we can do."

"We prove we can hold our own!" Lopez suggested, "The one thing both McKay and Jackson did was they could fight and they both went on those attack missions y'know? We can too if we can prove we're not dead weight!"

"How do you suggest we do that? Challenge someone to a fight and not get our ass kicked?"

"Well…anything can stupid when you say it like that," Lopez shrugged, earning a scoff from White, "Oh come on bro, you know we can't just sit here twiddling our thumbs. We can do it!"

"How? Seriously I don't know how we can gain enough credit to be allowed on off-world combat missions like the others."

"We took the same combat courses as the others didn't we?"

"The others were needed."

"So what? I can kick all their asses! Except for Tew, he scares me," Lopez said, putting a bit of a disclaimer in his declaration.

"What? Why Tew?"

"He's a doctor man, I-I don't like needles y'know."

"Whatever, my point still stands Tomas, we need to prove we can belong out there."

"We train," Lopez said, "We spend a few hours a day in like…the shooting range, take more advanced combat courses like the military dudes do, we learn how to do tactics and stuff, it'll be awesome!"

"Probably…" White mused, rubbing his chin and pointed at the treadmills, "Probably need to get-"

"Need to get-yeah get in better shape."

"Yeah, yeah might be needed first."

"Okay, umm…guess that's it? That's the plan?" White shrugged.

"Yeah…guess so," Lopez said in agreement, looking around.

"That it?"

"Yeah it feels weird, thought it'd be this really climactic moment y'know?" Lopez noted, "Kinda…anti-climactic."

"Meh," White shook his head, "I'll uh…go get my uniform, without that armor, and go to the shooting range."

"What about the getting into shape thing?"

"I just ate…so still digesting," White quickly responded, "But I'll get on the treadmill after that."

"Yeah sure whatever."

Location: Terra Nova, Stargate Command Gate Room

SG-1 had finished their mission, although the way they had returned was not the same as the way they had left. All of them save one, including the military detachment of SG-36 appeared in a flash of white light in the middle of the gate room, courtesy of the EDFS Shokaku. The one missing member of their team, Captain Jennifer Hailey, was beamed to the medical level where a team was waiting to receive the wounded tech specialist.

"SG-1, SG-36, welcome home," General Landry called out as they arrived from orbit, "And job well done."

"Thank you mon generale," O'Neill responded with a two-fingered salute that turned into a bow.

"Gracias, O'Neill," SG-36's commander said as he led his team out of the gate room after a swift salute to General Landry, "It was an honor señor."

"You too Colonel," O'Neill replied as the Mexican team left to get their own men checked out that had gotten roughed up some.

"I assume things went as swimmingly as they normally do Jack?" Landry asked.

"What's normal?" Brenda asked calmly.

O'Neill thought about that for a moment, "That," he specified.

"He ain't serious is he?" Dr. Underwood whispered to Lieutenant Blanton.

"Brotha I don't know," the SAW gunner shook his head.

"I hope that we can make normal a bit…less full of shooting," Dr. Tew piped up, "Just to make sure that's on the record."

"Hopefully it won't have to doc," Landry chuckled, "Reports are looking promising thus far. The whole of the enemy fleet was destroyed and our listening to Colonial radio transmissions is declaring their invasion force a total loss."

"Umm…if I may," Walt interrupted politely, "Might I interject with a question as to who those people bloody were?!"

"That's one of the questions we hope to answer ourselves Dr. Walt. And we think you could help us with that," Landry answered.

"Well of course, another enemy we haven't the slightest clue about," Walt grumbled under his breath.

"Now, I'm sure you all would like to get cleaned up, get some rest, and check in on Captain Hailey, we'll have our debriefing in an hour."

"Yes sir," O'Neill responded.

"Dismissed."

The military troops quickly saluted and filed out, all smiles at their first successful mission. The new SG-1 had proven its metal in combat thus far, proving that the new model of team was in fact worth the change. It was quite an exhilarating experience to be back at base, knowing that they'd saved the day like the heroes that they knew had occupied this team before them.

"So Colonel, how'd we do?" Major Blanton asked as he fell into step next to O'Neill.

"Major you and the others might just work out," O'Neill responded with his normal sarcasm.

"Hailey got shot again," Major Rosario pointed out from behind.

"Yeah this time it was a bit more serious," Captain Pauley reminded them, "Doc! How's she doing anyway?"

"Unconscious still, the medics here'll be putting her under a prototype healing device," Kathy explained, "I'd like to be there for the procedure, apparently it's a reverse engineered Gou'ald thing."

"The one that's still a little buggy?" Tew asked, "Yeah I'd like to be there too."

"Buggy?"

"Well by medical standards, it's got a five percent fail rate. Every time it fails it fails to heal and does nothing really. No damage has been done but five percent is fairly substantial fail rate in medical circles you understand," Kathy elaborated.

"Meaning it's not in production or circulation outside of fixed military medical facilities on the larger bases."

"Shokaku was supposed to do the procedure aboard ship but they didn't risk it because of a power glitch in their main systems, she's still a new ship, a few teething problems," Ruby added as well.

"So I'll have my military technical specialist back will I not?" O'Neill straight up asked.

"Yeah, in a few hours she'll be fine, a little dazed but fine," Kathy shrugged as they reached the armory, dropping off their weapons quickly.

As they did that two familiar faces showed up there at the same time.

"Guys you're back!"

"White! Lopez!" Brenda called out, seeing them in their fatigues, "What're you two doing here?"

"Well we were gonna get some training in. See we didn't like being left behind," Lopez started, "Y'know it uh…it kinda sucks. Like we're not really part of the team."

"You're a geologist," O'Neill pointed out, "That's your part in the team."

"You took them!" Lopez pleaded, pointing at the other civilian members.

"You study rocks," Blanton sighed.

"Not just rocks!" Lopez quickly snapped back, "I have a degree in the study weather patterns as well, meteorology, not as strongly as I do geology of course."

"My point exactly," Blanton responded.

"Oh come on, we can be useful out there, we're gonna start training with more advanced stuff," Dr. White butted in.

"Guys, I appreciate the effort," Brenda interrupted, "But there's a place for everyone. Yours isn't out there on a combat mission."

"B-but we can help, while you guys are doing your thing we can help protect you," Lopez explained, "Be that last line of defense."

"Tell you what," O'Neill stated with finality, "Do your training, learn what you can. I'll keep in touch with the instructors to see how you're doing in their professional opinion. We'll have this conversation then. For now, it's been a helluva forty-eight hours. The rest of us shall get some rest in the meantime."

O'Neill and the others filed past the two of them except for Brenda, who knew that this was a conversation that had to be had.

"Brenda come on please," White begged.

"Guys I saw what they go through out there," she sighed, hesitating as she considered if she should say that she had pulled the trigger and killed somebody, "I actually…killed someone yesterday. Not kidding at all it is…the hardest thing."

"But what would we do if you guys had all died?" Lopez suggested, "What are we, the ones left behind supposed to think? That we couldn't have helped when we might have been able to?"

"We've got the same patch on our shoulders that you do, treat us the same as everyone else," White said.

"I can't stop you from trying to prove you can do it, and you learning how to fight better doesn't hurt," Brenda stated, "I just don't want to be the one to make that decision. Guess I'm glad I don't have that authority anyway."

"So impress him and we can go next time?" White asked, pointing at O'Neill, although the team had vanished around the corner.

"Yeah, if you can."

Location: Fort Jacob Carter, Assault Ship Hangar Alpha

"Attention all troops, stand down, I repeat stand down," the overhead speakers in the massive hangar called out, "All forces will return to barracks and await further orders."

"You heard the big voice!" Staff Sergeant Hanson yelled, "We're standing down."

The lines of darker green camouflage let out a collective groan. Each company was arranged in blocks with platoons' squads lined up in column forming blocks twelve deep. The brigade's vehicles were already on board, and the brigade itself was organized into three ships. Four were the smaller LSA-312 Enforcer Class Assault Ships which measured four hundred and seventy-five meters long and carried roughly a thousand of the 1st Brigade's troops. The fifth ship was an LST-313 Fearless Class Heavy Assault Platform that carried the brigade's support formations and command and control capabilities.

In this hangar, like the other three Assault Ship hangars, two full battalions of infantry were assembled on either side of the ship. Each of them was a highly motorized force, heavily built upon its fast, well-armed, well-protected Wolverine M-403 4x4 L-ATV' and M-404 Hyena 6x6 M-ATV's for its light infantry battalions. The heavy infantry was built on the M-406 Bobcat 8x8 Infantry Fighting Vehicle which was based heavily on the American Stryker. Earth Defense Force infantry brigades were built to be large, able to hit extremely hard, and then hold their taken territory. The armored forces were tracked, with their M-401 Thor's being the hammer of the ground-based forces and the M-402 Honey Badger being a fast, protected chariot that the armored infantry rode into battle to support their tanks. But the 1st Armored Brigade hadn't been mobilized for deployment, only The Vanguards had, 1st Infantry.

"Thought for sure we were going to see some action," Lee said as Hanson pulled him up, going down the line the squad was sitting in wearing their full combat gear.

"Well we aren't Lee, sorry guys," Hanson said as he progressed to Corporal McFierce.

"It's all good by me," PFC Powers grumbled under her breath as she too was pulled up.

"Excellent, we're probably going to be going on a ruck march now,"

"Wonderful, a tab," McFierce growled, using the British Army's slang term for the dreaded activity.

"It's about time we did one anyway, been a while," Kirkham laughed as he was pulled to his feet and the hangar started getting noisy as orders started to filter down and get relayed by more and more officers and noncoms.

"Time to get that Expert Infantryman Badge," Hanson called out to them all as a joke, knowing that several had already gained it or the British/Commonwealth equivalent before joining the EDF.

"Oh yeah, love hitting the stations," Tess laughed from his spot in the back of the squad.

"Staff Sergeant Hanson," Lieutenant Lincoln, their platoon commander, yelled out, "Formation, prepare to move out!"

"Yes sir! You heard the eltee get off your ass let's go," Hanson said as he quickly yanked everyone up, seventy pounds of gear and ammo included.

The squad formed with its parent platoon into a standing block of troops four deep with the squad leaders on the right side of the block and the assistant squad leaders on the other side with platoon headquarters next to them. Lieutenant Lincoln was in the front of the formation as the whole company began forming. The ship itself, held by magnetic docking clamps in the walls of the underground hangar, began powering down as the ship's crew were given the order to stand down themselves.

"Ten-hut!"

As one the company came to rigid attention, the deep drum of heels clicking together echoed in the large space as company by company the whole assembly came to attention. They all had their helmets on and lower masks off, and weapons buckled to their chests.

"Right face! Forward march!"

The formations began snaking their way out, intent on marching their way to the surface, as a little marching never hurt. Such massed marches didn't happen often, and the echo inside of the hangar from the stomping boots signified the power that was assembled here. When one remembered that there were many times this number of soldiers on this planet, awaiting their time to be called to battle it was amazing to think about. Such was the growth of Earth's military might.

The march made its way back to the surface, where the battalions split up back to their barracks. Once there the troops were dismissed to begin preparations for the activation ceremony. It was only necessary, seeing as they were mere days away from their activation they would need to do some spit polishing on their dress uniforms.

Walking into their barracks, a step up from the communal affair they'd had in basic training, the squad was somewhat bummed.

"I tell ya Staff Sergeant, I thought this was the real thing," Sergeant Kirkham sighed as he opened his door to the shared room he had with Sergeant Tess.

"Brass don't tell us grunts much Kirk," Hanson responded, standing there next to his two fireteam leaders, "Sucks but that's how it is. Go ahead and get your dress uniforms squared away, eltee wants an inspection of them once we're fully stood down."

He could see into their room and made out one of their dark gray dress uniform jackets hanging up with its plastic wrap still on it. It was an immaculate design, being dark gray with black pants with a gold stripe on the sides. A white button up shirt with a black tie was as simple as it got for their dress uniforms. There were five golden buttons and golden crossed rifles signifying them being infantry on each side of their lapel. Their medals earned went on their left chest and name plate and earned badges over their right chest on the pocket. NCO's and enlisted men had their ranks on their arms as was normal for any army and their unit insignias there as well. To top it off they wore a red beret with a black shield on the front with their own rank insignia there over it.

He had already taken a selfie of himself in the full uniform, a picture he had sent to Hannah, with whom he was beginning to develop a genuine relationship with over texts and frequent calls after training had finished for the day as they began to get more relaxed about that sort of thing. He himself had been given more and more responsibility and authority over his squad as training closed in on the end of their training.

So as part of his authority he began going room-to-room, ordering his squad to stay in their camo, with their weapons and ammo in their vests hanging up in the barracks armory. It was a key difference between Earth-bound national troops and the EDF. An attack could come swiftly, they needed their gear at hand in order to not be caught with their pants down. So each barracks was outfitted with a small bare bones arsenals to be able to get into the fight immediately, just long enough for more weapons and ammo to get moved to the battlefront. But that was just for an attack, not them being deployed.

Once his squad was all informed of their next assignment and inspection he sat down on his bed and snatched his cell phone. He opened a long-running text conversation and typed in a sentence.

_Hey_

He waited a few moments before his phone buzzed.

_U done for the day?_

_Not sure yet. U?_

_Have one more class, Jonas Quinn is guest lecturing!_

_?_

_XO He's the first "alien" to speak to a class at TNU!_

_Alien?_

_He's human, but he's not Earth-born_

_Cool. Take a video for me_

_Will u be allowed out?_

_Probably not, on alert_

_Aww…_

That elicited a chuckle from him. He loved spending time with her, eight dates in the past two weeks had done that. The two of them had hit it off, becoming an item of examination and funny jokes, but it could have turned into something serious. He just knew it, maybe she felt that way, maybe she didn't, all he knew is that he'd need to stay on his toes so he didn't come back in a box. For now however, his biggest threat was that of a tongue lashing from British lieutenant who had it out for his squad.

Location: Terra Nova University

In the largest lecture hall on campus an amazing event was taking place. Jonas Quinn was about to lecture an Earth class. This would be the first of its kind for Earth's growing awareness of the larger galaxy. Behind the scenes it had been easy enough to arrange, Jonas was a big shot in his government now. He was very much aware of the larger galaxy himself and was knowledgeable enough to teach a class for a day anyway. And Jonas was trusted by the military to not be a problem as far as revealing classified information was concerned.

"Wow full house huh Daniel?" Jonas said, looking out at the incredibly full lecture hall, and couldn't help but notice the lines of news cameras in the back row, their owners under contract not to be too disruptive.

"Yeah, they've been looking forward to this," Daniel responded to his old friend.

"Granted I wasn't the first in line though was I?"

"No you were, Teal'c felt it best if an offworld Human be first, then a Jaffa could take the stage," Daniel explained with a shrug.

"Afraid they would mob him?" Jonas chuckled.

"Oh it would be so much simpler for him if they tried," he sighed, envisioning the mountains of college students Teal'c would single-handedly wreck, "Looks like we're ready…"

"Well, here I go," Jonas gleefully stated as he smiled broadly in excitement and watched Daniel walk onto the stage.

"Good afternoon," he said into the mic, "I'm truly honored that today we are making history as our friends in the media," Jackson pointed out, motioning the news people in the back, "have so pronouncedly declared. But let us not forget what this is, Jonas is a guest speaker for this class. So I must insist that you treat him as such. The only difference between him and many others that you may have had in other such classes is the fact he was born on a different planet, to a different culture. So please, welcome Jonas Quinn."

A healthy round of applause rose from the several hundred members of the class/audience as cameras zoomed in on Jonas as he walked out onto the stage. He took Jackson's hand in a hearty handshake and below the applause Daniel gave him a courteous "good luck".

"Thank you," Jonas started as if it were no big deal as he settled in and straightened his tie and jacket and tapped the mouse to get his powerpoint started, "As many of you know, I was not born on Earth, yet I am Human…"

As he continued his introduction Hannah McGee sat in the middle front of the auditorium with notebook out. This was precisely what she had been waiting for ever since coming to Terra Nova, the chance to meet an actual off-worlder! Never before could this have even been plausible before a few years ago. Yet here she was now, taking notes from the lesson of someone most would call an alien as if it were no big deal.

Perhaps it was meant to be this way, but she didn't care, and neither did anyone else in Dr. Jackson's class. This was amazing!

"So surreal," she whispered to her friend seated next to her, "You'd think he was just some dude from Miami Beach or something."

"Oh my gosh I know!" Kirsti said with a huge smile, "I'm so going to get a selfie with him."

Hannah just rolled her eyes at that and took note of the new slid that appeared on the projector. It was a picture of Jonas standing in front of what appeared to be a city from the mid-1900's. Old-style skyscrapers rose into the air, brick buildings and chimneys rose from below and a pair of zeppelins hovered lazily in the bright blue sky.

"This is my home, the country Kelowna on the planet Langara," he declared proudly, "It was contacted by your Stargate Command more than twenty years ago. At the time we were just beginning to experiment with atomic reactions, and I was given the honor of giving Dr. Jackson a tour of our nuclear research facility. It was there that this man here," he said calmly, "Changed my life forever. He saved my life, and that of countless others during an accident at the facility. My government actually blamed him for it, if you can believe that. But I sort of…defected, knowing that Dr. Jackson had saved my people from disaster. From there, well…"

He tapped the mouse again and a picture of him with some people in military gear with their faces censored and his and Jackson's smiling broadly on a desert hill.

"Wow, look at that," Hannah said to herself, seeing the picture montage of all different places he had gone to in the service of Earth.

After waving down a few questions for later he continued, with pencils and pens furiously taking down anything that they could. Despite this being an official lesson and part of their mid-term exam it was hard to take it as such. But from the appearances of an observer it seemed to be going well.

The lesson continued on without a hitch, and then a question and answer period was called up. The first student to get a turn at the mic was a Chinese girl who tried composing herself as best she could as she read off of her notes her simple but needed-to-be-answered question.

"Mr. Quinn…how similar to Earth society is your own?" she asked.

"Excellent question," Jonas responded, stepping to forefront of the stage, "It depends on which society of Earth we are talking about. Earth is…unlike any planet I have ever been to. Normally human societies off-world are segmented pieces of a version of Earth society. That is that's what they are like until they have aged to a point where they start inevitably branching off onto their own unique path. But to answer your question…I'd say the society of my own country, Kelowna, is most similar to that of the United States."

Many Americans in the crowd did a silent "yes" in celebration at that as a much older man, actually a professor in his own right, came to the microphone next.

"Mr. Quinn, how is it that a planet such as Langara has…evolved only to a period that resembles that of mid-century Earth? I mean no disrespect you understand," the man said, realizing afterwards how it might have sounded.

"No that's a fair question it's okay. Our society evolved to our current state now because of a period in our history where our population was not allowed to advance by an oppressive species that Dr. Jackson has discussed previously, the Gou'ald," Jonas explained.

Now another questioner came to the mic.

"Is your level of advancement equal to or less advanced than most other humans you have encountered?"

"More-so actually," Jonas answered, "I've only seen five human civilizations that could rival Earth, even then rival is a stretch. But as far as my people, we're a firm minority. It seems that for every…let's see…single civilization like my own there are at least fifty pre-industrial revolution societies out there. And that's just so far. Dr. Jackson I'm sure that number has changed somewhat?"

"By quite a few yes, the number is closer to eighty as of my last check."

"See? My people are a rarity, and those like Earth…you're not going to find them without coincidence being on your side."

Now it was Hannah's turn, she'd been in line and now it was her turn to ask a question.

"You showed us that you worked extensively with us, the people of Earth," she started, "What is your opinion of us?"

"My opinion of the people of Earth?" Jonas asked, "Wow, well it's kind of hard to give an absolute answer. Truthfully it's generally good, I was around to see some of the bad some of the ugly, that occurred on Earth. And it was genuinely jaw dropped some of what I saw. But…the sheer diversity, the wealth of unique culture and the eagerness to share and to help that Earth seems to want more than anything has been something that I truly hope is a Human tendency that will start to show itself in the larger galaxy."

"So in general, he likes us," Jackson said with a laugh.

"Oh I especially love Taco Bell," Jonas specifically pointed out, "Heard there's a Taco Bell here on campus, gonna grab a few favorites before it closes."

That drew some laughs from the crowd.

"And that might be on the exam!"

**So a little bit of filler for Earth, some character development and setting the stage a little bit for what is to come. I'll begin to get into some good SG-Team action in the next few chapters so stay tuned. I'll try to get another chapter before classes start up again on Tuesday, but be warned things will get busy for me with school returning.**

**Next Chapter Preview: The Colonials return to exploration, what shall they find I wonder?**


	26. Chapter 25

**I needed to edit the chapter quite badly so I took it down and now I'm reposting it. Sorry for that poor original post, this oughta be better.**

**Sorry for the wait guys, I've had a lot of writer's block with this story. But I'm back, a somewhat sort chapter, but I'm back.**

**Dr. Franklin Gorman – Biology Head**

**Dr. Steven Matinero – Biology Assistant**

Chapter 25

Location: Kobol, Tomb of Athena

Date: March 6, 2025

Time: 0800 

A new week and plenty of rest gave the Colonials all the time that they needed for their return to duty. Rest was a nice word in theory but in reality it meant that they were actually working, not on mission. They all had a set of workouts to stay in their tightly maintained physical fitness requirements. The civilians had the additional necessary training in more advanced self-defense courses to be fully qualified in using a Personal Defense Weapon, a bullpup weapon used by private security and government protection services.

They'd been tasked to become proficient in this weapon, and recent developments made certain that it was needed. But the Colonials still felt that their teams were to be escorted by their military personnel and the civilians were to engage in self-defense as a last resort when all else failed. However, this was simply doctrine, and they had more pleasant things to worry about today. A new planet had been dialed up, and they were to go out to explore a fairly unique planet, one with aqua colored grass and dark green, blue, and purple trees coated in a thick fog.

This place was actually just the kind of alien wonderland that they wanted to explore, and had their civilians going crazy. There was also evidence of civilization and biological life in form of a stone pillar and ruined archway over an overgrown path. So everyone was looking forward to this mission. They'd prepared fully for it, but this time with much lighter gear, only what they could carry on their backs. Backpacks had already been readied, and Recon One was in a woodland camouflage uniform, standing in the main gate room. All of them were excited, even as the ring dialed. It never was any less exciting to them. Alien worlds were just such a thrill to go out and explore. Such was the mystery, the danger, and the thrill of discovery that no one could imagine this ever becoming boring or routine, making this job the highlight of anyone's life.

"Right," Colonel Black called out, "We're only going to be out here for two days. Last equipment check."

All of the team members checked one last time, but like the last time all of them were good to go. Their civilian team members were holding their small bullpup weapons tightly, unwilling to let them be hanging at all. Having these weapons would take a bit to get used to. But better to be inconvenienced than unprepared. And should this mission go as expected they'd be too wrapped up in their work to be inconvenienced.

"We're good Colonel," Fraser called out once his civilians nodded that they were ready.

"Right," Colonel Black nodded and gave a thumbs-up to the control room and Admiral Queen.

"Recon One you are clear to proceed on mission."

"Roger that sir," Black nodded.

"Admiral..." Dr. Hall, the medical assistant on the team, a fairly superstitious individual, called out in reminder.

"Gods' speed," Admiral Queen chuckled back, knowing the usual routine.

"Form up!" Black yelled and waved a hand to get everyone in formation, "You know the drill by now."

The military team got into formation in front of the active gate. The civilians also got behind them and walked through. As always Colonel Black led them through at the front of the column. He was used to the ring's effects, and came out the other side into a very humid and heavily scented atmosphere. He moved to the dialing device, moving through the knee-high grasses and saw a glittering dust come off of it as he walked amongst the tall blue leafy blades. He noticed this was not the only place the odd substance hung in the air, the trees also seemed to drop it as they sat still, ghostly silent with not a shred of wind.

It was night here, and was fairly dark, with fog coating the ground. So he was easily able to see the individual specks start to move and twist in the air, acting like aimless insects. The trees around him were dead still as he heard the sounds of his team arriving and spreading out, flashlights were zipping back and forth as he checked the dialing device and saw it was covered in a thick moss and a few clumps of grass. There were also a few clumps of mushrooms on it, but he could tell it was intact and saw the lights from the illuminated symbols below it. No one or at least, nothing, had used this thing in some time.

"Looks clear on the other side Admiral," Black said into his radio as he looked around.

"Roger that Colonel, have fun," Admiral Queen responded to him directly.

"Thank you sir," Black said calmly as he stood up and looked around to see his team standing in a circle, examing the area with the expert lenses that their specialized fields granted them.

"Extraordinary," Dr. Gorman, their head biologist, said as he leaned down and ran his hand along the grass blades, "The chlorophyll's pigments are different in these cells."

"If it is chlorophyll," his assistant Dr. Martineros mumbled as he reached up to the hanging flowering vines, "We won't know until we collect some specimens. Better get started."

"There might be something in the soil too," their geologist Dr. Hepler added as well as she looked around.

"Doesn't explain the rest of the random leaf colors," one the others said in response, more a reminder than anything.

"Different species could react differently," one of the soldiers called out to add his say.

"You lads have been spending too much time with them haven't you," Colonel Black interrupted, "Before we start our science projects let's get the area secured."

"Teams sir?" Captain Stison suggested.

"Team One…" Black started and saw that a trail went down and forked left and right, "Head left down this trail, Team Two down the other way. Stay in contact."

"Form up," Stison ordered his team.

"Agent Fraser, you know who you want to go where?" Black asked.

"We'll split up, Dr. Gorman, would you, Martineros, Beverly, Doc, and Deckero please accompany Team One, the rest of you with me and Team Two."

"Let's move out," Colonel Black said and waved his hand forward.

The two lines of soldiers and scientists began walking forward, Dr. Beverly taking pictures of the column sitting there as he walked past it. He fell back into line and started immediately looked to see what he'd photographed. As he photographed the column however he and the rest of the Colonials were being watched intently by beings who knew how to not be seen. When the Colonials continued on down the path the small creatures followed, bounding through the thick tree leaves swiftly, keeping the glow of their bodies out of sight. But Beverly and the others had yet to see these little glows in the trees quite yet.

"How interesting…" he mused aloud.

"What is it?" one of the military members asked.

"It seems that this column contains a few etchings, they appear to be similar to the symbols we've found on the ruins on Kobol. It's a near match."

He flipped through the pictures, seeing the upright characters again on the six-sided column. So Beverly didn't quite know what they meant yet, a team was working on it back at Choros and he himself was working on deciphering it. As of now however, it was definitely worth noting that their ancient ancestors had visited this place once before.

As they moved further into the forest their leading scouts felt a somewhat firmer change in the ground beneath them. They looked at each other and shined their flashlights down onto what was clearly a stone road overgrown with aqua green moss and the odd blue colored grass shoved to the edges. There were thick tree roots on and pushing up under the stone road as they looked down its gradual curve. It told them that this place was indeed very, very old.

"Looks like a road," one of them said to their team leader, shining his rifle's flashlight down the road.

"An old one, wouldn't hurt to see where it leads."

"An active settlement perhaps?" Gorman asked.

"Does it look like someone's been around here recently?"

"No, not likely," Gorman grumbled.

The group continued, stepping over arches that had collapsed onto the ground, their upright supports on the sides, overgrown with moss, mushrooms, and plants. It was an incredible sight to them, that all of this existed for so many thousands of years and that there could have been someone like them, building and living in this place once upon a time. But that wasn't the most impressive thing, they saw that when the path started to angle up a hill. Climbing to the peak of the low rise that got them above the trees the group saw a sharp difference from the terrain that screamed "man-made".

"Dr. Beverly, you may want to take a look at this," Captain Fredericks called out and waved him forward as the column stopped.

"Now that I do want to see my boy," the older man nodded.

"I'm not seeing any sign of habitation, not recent anyways," Fredericks mumbled under his breath as he looked through a pair of binoculars.

"That's too bad now isn't it, but not surprising considering the state of this place," Beverly sighed.

"One less thing to worry about, Colonel, Fredericks, we're seeinng a large mesa of some kind with man-made structures, we're going to investigate."

"Very well Captain, stay on alert, never know what's out here," the Colonel replied.

"Yes sir, Fredericks out. Let's check it out ladies and germs."

What he was referring to was a mushroom-like rise of stone with what could only be described as the overgrown ruins of an ancient town atop of it. It was not too high above the ground, the trees just reached the bottom. As they obviously now realized was their goal, the team began moving forward.

As they moved a trio of golden orbs of light zipped through between the trees, coming to rest on a branch over the path. They paused to watch the Colonials moving forward, unsure and tentative of their new guests. The Colonials didn't see them, and kept moving along.

"What a place…" Martineros said, wowed by the rich diversity and aged appearance of what seemed to be an ancient forest.

"Never seen anything like it."

"It really is amazing, the kind of thing you actually expect to find when you say alien," Gorman nodded.

"No kidding," Fredericks laughed, "I mean blue leaves, ruined structures, fog, what a place."

"And we've got so much to see and do, and we're just starting the day."

"The day's not over yet," their leading scout chuckled, pointing at their destination.

In front of them was a wide stairway, twenty meters wide. In the center was a line of columns holding up archways, some that had collapsed. Flowering vines and the bluish grasses covered the stone and much of the stairs were coated in thick slick moss. Around the rim of the mesa a ruined stone wall with rounded towers stood with smaller trees growing from against the wall. Great blocks of stone had fallen and shattered around the ground with roots growing all over them, signaling the age of this place.

"Take it easy, don't touch the vines if you can help it," Captain Fredericks said with an air of caution.

"Dr. Beverly, having fun?" Deckero, their medical expert, asked with a smirk, flashing a flashlight at the place as they went along.

"Oh very much so my dear."

"Hey, I think I see a light," their scout called out from up ahead.

"Type?" Stison demanded.

"It's…blue? I don't know sir."

"Let's check it out," Fredericks ordered and then turned to the civilians, "Alright weapons ready, but fingers off the trigger, don't aim those things unless you want to shoot."

"Hate having to but fine," Deckero grumbled, refering to his doctor's oath.

The team began moving closer, and indeed they could see it now, a faint bluish glow. Through the vines that got thinner and thinner as they approached the top they saw that this place was made up of a few buildings around a central open area. The buildings were ancient, hard to define in their shape because of the effect of age. But that wasn't the main concern. A rather large tree stood within the very center of this circular central square upon a slight rise. Around the tree were six stone arches that connected in a ring around the top where they disappeared within the leaves of the tree. The tree itself was magnificent to behold, draped like a thick curtain were long woven vines entirely covered in light blue flowers. The leaves themselves were far overshadowed by similar flowers covering the tree as well. A slight breeze sent a constant stream of these delicate pedals floating away in the wind.

In front of them however was an archway within the tree's curtain of flowers and inside they saw the blue light flickering like a candle. They knew this to be something worth exploring, and so they carefully spread out in the plaza, looking around, entranced by the odd sight.

"Should we…" asked the team XO, Arroyo, unsure if anyone was going to go inside.

As she asked that something unexpected occurred. A figure walked through the pedal arch and out into the open, just far enough out for them to see him. He wore a simple orange toga and had bare feet. His face was wrinkled and calm, head bald, and hands clasped together with his fingertips gently resting against each other. He was old, very old by the look of him, and very human.

"Welcome. I have expected you," he said calmly.

The Colonials were stunned. He had just spoken to them in their own language.

"How…how did you know?" Beverly asked, breathless.

"Whatever's not full makes noise, whatever's full is silent," he responded gently, not giving them an answer they really expected.

"I…don't understand, we're explorers, from a group of worlds called the Twelve Colonies of Kobol," Captain Stison responded, trying to get through to this man.

"We come seeking knowledge to help aid the defense of our worlds and others who may need it," Beverly elaborated.

"If a man crossing the river is swept away, how can he help others to cross?"

"That sounded like an insult," Martinero whispered to Gorman.

"I don't know what the frak that sounds like coming from this guy," the other man grumbled.

"Yep. Gonna be one of _those_ missions," Martinero grumbled as well.

Team Two

The group that made up team one had a less exciting trip through much thicker underbrush. Their trail was far less developed, with only a thin alley with which they proceeded down, swatting away incessant branches and vines. This had led to a great deal of annoyance among them until they had reached a portion of forest much-less heavily wooded.

Here, they saw a field of flowers interspersed with smaller trees. But before they entered the field something caught their eyes.

"Look at that," Black whispered to himself, looking at the sight through the trees as the team spread in line.

"Bugs?" someone asked.

"Don't think so."

What they were looking at, hovering and milling about amongst the flowers were fist-sized balls of light, moving from flower to flower. Water in numerous streams coursed through the meadow to what appeared to be a river flowing through the middle of it. In the distance they heard the roar of a waterfall.

"Whoa, those are definitely not bugs," Cruzii called out.

**(Keep an open mind, I have my reasons for what comes next)**

The tech specialist pointed to a glow next to their bushes, and they all saw it. A yellow glow surrounding a humanoid, but this humanoid was the size of a man's hand, and had wings. The tiny being had a solid white covering over their body, but it wasn't cloth from what they could tell. What it was doing was even more impressive.

Around it were flowers, and as it went from small flower to small flower it reached out its little arms and the plant grew straight up and the leaves expanded outward. This caught Dr. Cruzii's attention, and he tried to pull out his camera and take a video recording of this odd sight. This continued as he filmed, and he immediately saw the implication of unlocking this secret, farming would be forever changed, hunger would be a thing of the past. Emergency food supplies would never be in need, they could be grown as disasters occurred, no culling crops from farmers of other worlds for a price.

But he was seen, the creature looked up and saw him as he tried leaning in closer to get a clearer image. The floating being stopped what it was doing, and then zipped away. The valley all of a sudden erupted as the other floating balls zipped away as well, aiming further into the tree line across from them. Cruzii for his part jumped up and ran after it, knowing that there was more to be learned from this being.

"Doc!" Colonel Black snapped, and he and the others quickly sprinted after the man.

"What're you doing Cruzii?!"

"Those things can control the germination of plantlife, I've gotta figure out how!" he responded.

"I'll control how you germinate you little..." Gunney Bradely roared as he chased after the man.

Before Cruzii got to the treeline however something stopped all of them. It was a fierce wind that struck the whole team of Colonials from behind and was accompanied by a strange white glow for a moment that certainly got their attention before they turned around. Standing there was a very young human girl wearing an orange cloth dress and was barefooted. She had a long braid of black hair trailing over her shoulder as she stood there watching them. She seemed peaceful, inquisitive even. Above all though, she was out of place.

"How'd she…" one of the men asked in confusion.

"No idea."

"Who, who are you?" Colonel Black asked.

"I am one whose jug is filled drop by drop," the little girl responded.

"Drop by drop, what does that mean?" Cruzii asked.

"It means one who lives life one day at a time, taking it in for all it's worth," Dr. Hall replied, as she stepped forward with hands extended, "Am I right?"

"Yes," the girl nodded to the small medical assistant.

"What, what were those?" Black asked again.

"Those whose love is great as age. They are the keepers. Tending with the gift of those who came before."

"The gift of those who came before…" Hall started, "The Lords of Kobol…"

"Their name matters not, only the deeds. They are known by all," she replied courteously.

"Known by all."

"What about Earth?"

"Especially."

Location: Tomb of Athena

"The Tomb's been untouched since the invasion Admiral Adama," the Fleet Intelligence colonel reassured Admiral Adama as he stood there with his best celestial navigator, Mr. Gaeta.

"Excellent," Adama said affirmatively, "And the Arrow is secure?"

"Yes sir," the man responded, holding out the case with the Golden Arrow of Apollo.

"Let's get this done, Mr. Gaeta," Adama ordered, and the man walked inside.

The cave was still covered by dust and the statues of the symbols of the Twelve Colonies. Two camouflaged guards stood watch inside, awaiting this moment. The colonel walked in as the other two Fleet officers walked in behind him, looking around for themselves.

"Are you ready sir? We're expecting…well a map of some kind," the man said as he unscrewed the cap and carefully withdrew the arrow and walked over to the archer.

"We're ready colonel," Adama nodded confidently.

The man nodded, and placed the arrow into place. Immediately the stone door slammed shut, and the lights went out, leaving only a small column of light in the roof keeping them from being in total pitch black. The troops lifted their rifles up and Adama looked around, then all light went out and they all felt a sudden odd feeling course through their bodies. Then a pale blue light illuminated them.

"Admiral, you alright?" Gaeta asked.

"I'm fine," Adama responded as he now looked around and saw at his feet there was a lush grass under his boots.

The troops around them shined flashlights in all directions and they saw twelve stone columns. Each had glowing jewels embedded within them. Above them the Colonials could all see that there were constellations that matched the jewels exactly. Around them a jungle waved with light breezes as the dew settled on the blades of grass and ferns all around them. It was a picture perfect piece of land, one the Colonials had to fight to not admire.

"These constellations, they match the flags of the colonies," Gaeta noted immediately as he walked around, and pointed at each, "Caprica, Virgon, Tycon, Saggitaron, Picon, they're all here."

"In the Sacred Scrolls it was written that when the 13th Tribe arrived on Earth they could look up and see their brothers and sisters," Adama remembered.

"So this place…is Earth's sky?" the Colonel from Fleet Intelligence asked.

"We're standing on it sir."

Everyone looked at Gaeta and they could all now realize just how important this was. They now had the full night sky of their ultimate goal, Earth.

**Yes, fairies. I know exactly what you're thinking, but I'm going on the same principle as the show did. All Earth mythology has some basis in its past. Fairies appear in many different accounts through the ages, and when I babysat with my ex-girlfriend I kinda had to be force-fed the Tinkerbell movies, and it gave me one hell of an idea. So, I decided to work in the mythology surrounding fairies using the Disney show/movies as my visual inspiration. **

**By the way, if you have little girls to try and keep quiet for a few hours, get those shows on, it's on Netflix and those kids will stay glued to it for hours.**

**Next Chapter Preview: A step into Renaissance Italy and Rome for SG-1.**


	27. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Location: P9X-992

Date: March 6, 2025

Time: 0630

The blue watery event horizon gave way to the rippling appearance of the tan-camouflaged SG-1 walking through the gate from Terra Nova to their first mission since the heroics of Kobol. All of them knew that this was a smaller operation, not the longer term exploration type mission that they were used to. Around them an environment, hot and dry with low hardly brush and trees greeted them. They could see the ground was covered in patches of dry grass with gold-orange dirt and sand. The sky was devoid of clouds, and the sun really beat down on them.

"Wow, shoulda brought SPF 30, not fifteen," O'Neill quipped as he stepped forward.

"I've got some," Dr. Tew responded, the medical assistant having a massive backpack and a pack slung over his shoulder was a large bag that was also full of medical gear. As the medical assistant he had an unspoken job to carry extra gear as the horror stories they'd heard of the early days of the SGC had instilled that kind of a fear of being unprepared.

"That's just O'Neill's sarcasm Karl," Lawson said as she rubbed some sunscreen on her nose.

The group began marching out along a fairly well-defined path as the group settled into their own groups and just enjoyed the climate and the sun. The seventeen of them had been resting and training, especially the civilians, who were now holding P90 SMG's, a long-standing favorite of the SGC. Arguably the best with them were their non-combatant geologist and biologist, who'd been training hard, trying to be the best in the civilian group at defending themselves. They routinely got their butts handed to them operating as the opposing force for training operations for the military members of the teams, but were getting better and better.

"Sorta reminds of home," Lopez said as he walked along, looking around at the area as they moved forward, all downhill.

"More like the Mediterranean," Brenda noted, worded more like a correction and got a questioning/peeved look from her geologist, "I did some grad work in Genoa."

"They're both roughly the same climate, even the same terrain, kinda why the all the glitz and glamour loves that climate," Lopez replied with a shrug.

"As well as people in general old boy, climates like Rome and California have long been the cradle of civilization. Long growing seasons, plentiful fauna, and on the coast plenty of shallow water fish and other foods," Walt noted as they walked along, his newly arrived ivory cane tapping along as they walked.

"If these folks can make a good Italian pasta I'm good with that," Gibson piped up from the rear of the column, "We can trade and explore all day."

"Funny," Walt smirked, "But unfortunately there has been a troubling pattern emerging from many developed and even undeveloped civilizations, an age of immense conflict has come. With the Gou'ald reigning over the galaxy peoples of all kinds couldn't risk fighting each other for fear of the Gou'ald, but with them and the Ori and Replicators now gone many covetous and imperialistic civilizations have begun exploring, and conquering one another. Right now, it's a period similar to that of the Caudillos of Latin America. Military leaders taking over their civilizations, and now waging interstellar wars of conquest upon the less-developed."

"Sounds like trouble," Major Blanton noted, "I take it that's our newest threat, less developed rogue states bullying their lesser-developed brethren?"

"Kinda," Brenda stated, "But we've got a high probability of not even meeting them."

"You say that now…"

"No kidding boss," Lieutenant Holden said over the radio from up ahead on point.

The group now got to a bend in the terrain and the group could audibly hear the crashing of the sea nearby. Holden was standing next to a tree, holding a hand steadying her M-501 and was looking through her larger scope and was scanning the terrain for a route to their ultimate destination. It was a white walled town with red roofs and a few small fishing boats and a larger trio of what could only be described as galleys with lateen sails on three masts.

"Wow, looks like something from the History Channel," Holden mumbled as she analyzed the harbor and then the town.

"Please, don't insult the natives," Dr. Walt scoffed as he laid eyes upon the seaside town, "Hmm…maybe twenty thousand people, very much built upon life depending on the sea, but hard to see past the cliffs for farms so I may be wrong."

"I know," O'Neill said calmly, looking at the town himself, "Looks like a couple roads head inland, may want to check those out for other connecting towns or villages."

The team got fully on the curve and saw the large town, built on the high slope down to the water's edge. There, a mix of wooden and stone docks were pretty much the hive of activity. A small stone wall surrounded the town, and in the center was a larger building, a lot like a palace with yellow flags on its surrounding parapets. The town buildings matched that of Italian and Spanish styles, very much designed for the purpose of regulating temperature in a rather warm environment. They could see it was a very active town, and the gate was open and a pair of guards in leather armor and Roman style helmets with red as their primary color it seemed.

"Soldiers…seems like they have firearms, primitive," Holden mumbled as she analyzed the threat.

"May I?" Walt asked, and Blanton handed him a pair of binoculars and he took a good look at it, "Looks like a matchlock musket, not much threat to us I would say."

"Muskets, nice," O'Neill nodded.

"And swords," Holden added.

"Those can hurt," O'Neill smirked, "But we're still on neutral terms. Right?"

"Yes we're fine, I'm ready when you are," Brenda said as she looked around and adjusted her Stanford camp.

"Let's go check it out," O'Neill motioned, and then remembered Dr. Lopez and Dr. White, "Oh yeah, Lopez, White you're with Holden and Pauley, keep an eye on them Captain, let them do their thing."

"There's a lot to see, they'll be too busy to get in trouble sir," Pauley nodded.

"Keep a sharp lookout," O'Neill reminded him and the group of four began moving out.

"Finally, we can get some work done," White responded, ready to go and get some work and exploration done.

"The rest of us will head into the town and do the meet and greet," O'Neill ordered and waved everyone forward.

Earth Defense Fleet Command, Terra Nova

Assembled within a large meeting room, one of three the large circular building had, were a handful of expert analysts for the EDF. Their assignment was a relatively new one, create a revamped threat assessment to the Colonial Fleet. This was due to the large engagement at Kobol, and the surprising effectiveness of the Colonial Fleet that had engaged what had previously been thought to be a much, much superior fleet.

"So," Colonel Belousov, the chair of this board, started the conversation, "Were we wrong in our initial estimate of the Colonial Fleet's effectiveness? This battle seems like it."

"No other word for it, Colonial capabilities seem to have been drastically under-estimated, as well as industrial capacity," another man, Colonel Penn, the lone British officer on the board, put forward.

"They also seem to have given us a look at possible tactics for future engagements," one of two Americans said aloud, "And I do believe we should be concerned despite the obvious weakness of the motherships that were…well obliterated over that planet."

"Obliterated indeed," Belousov nodded, "The question is, could the Colonials use this against us?"

"The scientists have given us the raw numbers, these magnetic guns, they can be devastating if used the same way as we saw them used here. It wouldn't be the five or six shots these Ha'taks only withstood," Penn responded quickly, "But, with the numbers that the Colonials throw into battle we could very easily lose ships within moments if the Colonials jump into positions they want."

"What kind of range?"

"Well outside our own, a Battle Carrier won't be destroyed in really any engagement unless the fire of at least a hundred Colonial ships was used against it. But anything below Battleships and Carriers really needs to be careful. A Battlestar's full frontal volley will bring their shields down by five percent on average. A Battlecruiser would lose up to ten percent."

"That is if they connected?"

"If they connected of course yes," Penn made certain to make clear.

"So at range the Colonials can be an issue, but, there is the issue we now know they pose to direct planetary attack," Belousov responded as a new part of the meeting's purpose was brought up.

"Yes the Battlestar Galactica's atmospheric jump, impressive tactic, pretty much bypasses any orbital defense," the second American, Colonel Glynn, now spoke.

"This is something incredibly dangerous to the security of Earth, we at first thought the Colonials' ships couldn't handle the stress of an atmospheric jump as the Raptor crash at the Alpha Site showed us. Or so we thought, now they seem either have had that ability all along, or this new class of Battlestar is the only one capable of such a maneuver," the second American nodded.

"So we now assume that all Colonial ships especially Battlestars, which have two FTL drives, are capable of such maneuvers. If a strike force were to jump into Terra Nova's atmosphere or God-forbid Earth, their massive Viper Wings could devastate our defenses before we even get our fighters off the ground or guns and missiles into action," Penn sourly stated, "The problem is that we're just now beginning to understand Colonial FTL's, but any countermeasure is a long ways out."

"But their range is limited, or so we've been led to believe."

"Even that is starting to be questioned, the Galactica arrived at Kobol in less than a week. They're improving in that respect," Belousov mentioned.

"It has to be stated to command, the Colonials are now going to be the most powerful opponents we now face," Penn stated firmly.

"And their stargate program is also branching out, just like ours did. So that means we've got to find a way to track them and their activities to get a better gauge of the Colonials' ambitions and goals," Belousov declared, moving on, seeing as they had no clear answer to the Colonial FTL capability as of yet.

"We can attempt to put in a program into their computer system to keep tabs on their gate activity."

"Might have to directly do it, as in by hand, to do that is…risky to say the least."

"Not to mention the immense diplomatic issue of this being entirely illegal," Penn replied as well, "We go in there with the intent of monitoring them and we give them every reason to open fire on every SG Team we send through the gate and every ship they see."

"We have the ability to place a sensor net over their whole operational theatre, we can easily avoid that," Colonel Wright, the first American officer, stated without worry.

"Not so easy to get into what it is perhaps the Colonials' most secure facility."

"If needed, we'll manage," Colonel Glynn assured them, "SG-1's our best."

"If that plan is to be administered then yes, I sure hope that they can."

Stargate Command, Earth

"Sir, we have an energy burst of unknown origin," the NCO on watch in the sensor hub of the Earth Defense Grid called out, seeing the screen blinking red.

"Location?" the Captain immediately asked, hitting the button for an alert.

"Northern Brazil, in the Amazon," he replied and zoomed in, "Scanners aren't reading anything else down there."

"Brazilian Special Forces are ready for beaming," a comms officer stated firmly.

"Send 'em," the Captain nodded.

The communications officer quickly spoke in rapid Spanish to order the team of Brazilians to be beamed right to the disturbance to properly investigate. The group knew that something was bound to happen now and an officer began communicating with an orbital defense ship, a Battlecruiser. The ship began to prepare for orbital entry and readied its lone squadron of Banshees. But it needed to be cleared by Homeworld Command in order to enter the atmosphere. However the Brazilians didn't need such authorization, it was their country.

Northern Amazon Rainforest, Brazil, Earth

A flash of white enveloped the special forces team and the twelve men immediately fanned out in the familiar rainforest around them. The group knew that there was something here in this dark forest, in their country! This was exciting to them, it wasn't often that the SGC called upon Brazil's elite. This was a no-drill, the moment they'd been waiting for.

With IMBEL A2's at the ready the team moved to the source of the energy burst. The group had their infrared goggles over their eyes and were moving quickly but quietly. The forest was alive, as always, and as they grew closer and closer the forest itself grew quiet.

"The forest, it's quiet," one of the members of the team noted in his native Portuguese.

"They sense something," one of the others responded quickly, "I can feel it too."

"Something's out here, move forward keep an eye out, be ready for anything men," the officer in charge quickly ordered them.

The team crept forward until they reached a lush opening in the forest. The team knew that they were close. All of them had their rifles pointed forward, and nothing was in their field of view, but their force's scanner and GPS both said that they were in the right place, but there was nothing there. All they saw was high grass.

"I don't get it, there's nothing here…" their commander mumbled to himself, and pointed two fingers forward as a signal to advance.

In a skirmish line formation the group moved into the clearing and they all moved right into the grasses. The group took a few steps forward, rifles slowly moving side to side, looking for any sign of activity. They at first didn't see or hear or feel anything. But when the furthest forward operator hit a solid energy field an orange bubble showed its existence when the rifle point touched it.

"Shield!" the man immediately yelled and the group instantly jumped to action.

They all triggered their laser pointers and red beams pierced the night and swept back and forth as the shield light died down. Everyone rushed about, and was very alert and jumpy, their rifles ready to fire. But the shield made certain that they were unable to really do much.

"Command, this is Jaguar, we have found a shield requesting support," their commander relayed to his commanders.

After he said that he heard an electric whoosh and there was a white flash within the shield that went top-to-bottom. They shielded their eyes to keep their goggles from going white but they failed in that regard for the most part.

"It happened again," the commander said calmly, shaking his head in frustration.

"It was a transporter beam, Ancient type," the radio responded, "Is there anything there?"

"Nothing but grass."

"Right now it's impossible to know where it came from. Keep an eye on that area if you can, the EDF is going through the data now. We'll figure this out."

Local Town, P9X-992

The guards had seen the thirteen team members. They knew that they had to deal with them calmly, seeing as they had dealt with many strangers in trade recently and that trade was always the best policy. Conflict was not the way of their people, but they were quite willing to defend themselves as their actions signified. On the other hand, SG-1's experience meant that they were indeed ready.

The guards immediately stepped forward as they approached, four of them lifting their muskets to the ready. The first one challenged them in what sounded very much like Italian. In fact their uniforms were reminiscent of another Italian state of ancient Earth. Their iron helmets were eerily reminiscent of Roman Legionaries, their leather armor had the exact same style of overlapping leather strips as what the Romans used but were hardened. A large powder horn and box-shaped bag on their sides hanging from a sling across their chest held their black powder and ammunition. A Gladius style sword hung at their waist and an oval shield was on their backs, signifying that hand-to-hand combat was still of great importance to them. Their tunics beneath their armor were red and went to their knees and wrists. Each had worn brown pants underneath with brown boots and shin guards. All-in-all they were a well-outfitted group, well-established and supported and meant business.

"_State your business_," the bearded guard ordered and Dr. Walt stepped forward.

"_We are peaceful explorers_," Walt started, and bowed slightly, "_We're here to make friendly contact and learn of new cultures._"

"_Explorers, we've met your kind before, very well, the viceroy is always ready to speak with those who come in peace_," the guard responded.

"Viceroy?" Walt asked in english, "_A viceroy? You do not have…a king?_"

"_There is no king here. Not for some time, the viceroy is currently in the midst of holding court, I will send guards to escort you_."

"_Thank you_," Walt respectfully responded as the guard signaled two of his men in his language and they were shown inside with the guards shouldering their muskets in one hand and had their swords held tight with the other.

"So far so good," O'Neill noted as the group walked through the gates, passing a cart filled to the brim with golden thin stalks, a grain of sorts local to the planet.

"Yeah, finally someone we meet without shooting occurring," Brenda laughed.

"It is refreshing," Walt agreed, "By the way Brenda, did you recognize some of that language I was speaking with the guard?"

"Yeah I did, a Latin language, Italian?" Brenda responded as she took in the sights of what was an Italian Renaissance town.

"Very much so, you might be able to speak with them directly if your Italian isn't too rusty," Walt noted.

"Been a while since my graduate studies in Genoa," she sighed, "But I can give it a try."

The group was immediately the town curiosity, with men women and children pointing and talking and in some cases bartering their goods to them directly, but the guards brushed them off quite rudely. This was something that O'Neill and the other military members noted quickly.

"These guys like to be a bit pushy with their people," Major Rosario noted to Captain Hailey.

"Symptomatic of the times they exist in, you have a sword you kinda get what you want," Hailey reminded her, "Also, keep an eye out for rogue hands of men who don't know we're not available."

"Gonna give them a rude awakening if they try, and that applies to you guys," Rosario half-jokingly warned Newbold, Gibson, and Baird.

"Another thing, ladies, you must remember that women of this time didn't have any rights, watch your step very carefully," Walt informed them as they continued up a main street with tall stone buildings around the stone road and towards the decent-sized palace.

"We're not their women and we have guns," Ruby reminded Walt, they want to tell us what to do like we're their slaves then they can kiss my…"

"No, that's my job doc," Gibson smirked and moved up next to her, "you know that they're gonna take issue with a black man before a white girl right?"

"And you know better than to pick fights," Blanton warned his SAW gunner, "They're backwards if they think that way but no it isn't our place to fight that prejudice unless vitally necessary."

"Like in negotiations where you must establish yourself as an equal," Brenda said, giving an example.

"In our case more like their betters, I don't think we can say we're their lessers," Rosario responded as they walked along a stone bridge over a market.

"Wow, at least they're prospering to an extent," Underwood noted as he leaned against the stone rail and looked down at the wealth of market stands with large carts and barrels and trays of fish, a lot of sheep and goats, vegetables, and a lot of bags full of stuff they weren't able to get a good look at.

The market was crawling with people, selling more goods here like cloth, tools, shoes, cups, and other such general stuff. Also down there was a statue on a large fountain and a pair of small wooden stands that well-clothed speakers were shouting out proclamations and news. One of them had a pair of guards standing next to him with muskets held on the ground at ease, perfectly content. There were small colored flags on ropes above the market, flapping in the cool sea breeze. The area was roughly the size of a hockey rink, and more than three hundred people were milling about below, some leaving and some entering.

"Amazing, like a window through time," Dr. Lawson sighed in awe, looking down at the hive of activity as they paused to view the area.

"_We must continue, the viceroy is waiting for you_," the guard stated to them as he noted that they had paused.

"Yes, of course," Walt said in English and nodded.

"Rosario, you and your team can stay and look around, we only need Walt and Brenda for this," O'Neill suggested, "Blanton, you're with me. Could use some size for obvious negotiation purposes."

"Roger that sir, I'm in charge ladies," Rosario declared, "Split into two teams, Hailey you take Newbold and the doc's. I'll take Gibson and Baird with Ruby and Underwood."

"Let's get going, stay in contact and out of trouble," O'Neill ordered as he moved to follow Brenda and Walt behind the two guards towards a much more heavily guarded gate just up ahead.

The gate opened as they walked in, and saw that inside was a much higher quality building within, with arching water spouts in a long pair of fountains flanked by tall thin pine trees. The building was boxy measuring in at five floors with marble columns supporting the roof and balconies on the sides and corners with a flat façade in the front with tall windows around the large double doors. It was well-crafted, but not overly intricate and ornate.

Only perhaps a dozen guards in wide-brimmed feathered hats with metal cuirasses and red tunics below with black pants and boots stood with rapier style swords and a matchlock pistol in a holster. Each was the immaculate representation of a Musketeer from the famed French elite of old. But these ones did not have the classic European embroidery customary in the Renaissance age and had no Christian emblems whatsoever. Two of their number stepped forward with a man in more proper civilian attire in between them.

"Welcome travelers," he stated in a clear deep voice, and in English, a language that seemed to be quite common in the galaxy amongst active trading civilizations, "The Viceroy Principe welcomes you. I am Lord Garetes."

"Thank you, I am Brenda Jackson, this is Dr. Bruce Walt, and our military escorts Colonel Jack O'Neill and Major Steven Blanton, representatives of Earth's SG-1," Brenda stated firmly while stepping forward, taking the lead in negotiations from the start.

"You…you allow her to speak here?" the man sternly questioned Walt. He was clearly unaware of Earth's reputation.

"She will speak, and she will be spoken to," Brenda responded without much room for tolerating him.

O'Neill cocked his head and smirked at the man, signaling that he wasn't going to be helping him in any way. He would be dealing directly with Brenda.

"I see, if you'll follow me, the Viceroy is waiting," Garetes nodded and beckoned them to follow.

The group entered and they walked along the flat stone path with grass and trees to either side with flowers interspersed amongst the green. The large door opened as they approached and Blanton felt a chill go up his spine as he felt the troubling subconscious feeling of being watched. He turned his head slightly, and his eyes picked out a single figure in his peripheral vision wearing a brownish red suit of armor, but hidden in the shadow of a tower of one the wall to his right. He was a not exactly a bulky individual, and Blanton could tell his was a very advanced suit of armor, one that did not belong in this place wandering what was a restricted area. The big giveaway to him was a glowing orange eye on the helmet and he could also see the black of the second eye and a bit more equipment over the nose and mouth, a very intimidating sight to see analyzing you from afar.

"Colonel, three o'clock, shadow of the tower, being watched, definitely not a local," Blanton quickly said to O'Neill, "Advanced armor, glowing orange eye."

"Threat?"

"Possibly, didn't see any weapons," Blanton answered immediately as they entered the building and were now out of sight.

"Send an alert out to the team, be ready just in case."

"Roger that."

**Alright, I think I can leave it off there without giving too much away. It's been a while since I got a pair of chapter updates to this story completed and posted, hope this meets your standards guys. As usual, leave a review or PM any questions or suggestions or concerns you may have and I'll do my best to get back to you in a timely manner with a proper response. **

**As many of you can probably guess I am in college, in a major I love taking some truly amazing courses at a school that has a bit of history with my family, the University of North Texas. It is an amazing school, beautiful campus, knowledgeable faculty, and the city isn't half-bad, a bit small and covered in construction zones but meh, I can live with it. But it does keep me very busy so be prepared for long gaps between chapters or I might get lucky and crank a chapter out on a weekend so stay tuned.**

**Next Chapter Preview: The Colonials begin learning some of the truth of their Gods. **


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